


Elysian - Percy Jackson

by Abigaill



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action, F/M, Fanfiction, Gen, Jackson - Freeform, Olympians, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Freeform, PercyJackson, Romance, elysian, fan fiction, percy - Freeform, percy jackson - Freeform, percy jackson love story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-11-02 13:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 85
Words: 211,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10945932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abigaill/pseuds/Abigaill
Summary: (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect. [Book 1 of 2]A girl by the name Ariana is a goddess, but not just any goddess, she is the 'daughter' of all the 12 Olympians. She decides to go on quests with her friends. What will happen on the journeys? Will any romantic feelings arise?Rights go to Rick Riordan.





	1. 01

I walked along with Annabeth, adjusting my helmet, armor, looking at my dagger, Kairos, and my knife, Amaranthine, in my holster and also adjusting my sword, Nikao, in my hand. I looked over to Annabeth just as a black haired boy caught up to her and said, "Hey."

Annabeth kept marching, ignoring him.

"So what's the plan?" he asked. "Got any magic items you can loan me?"

"Just watch Clarisse's spear," Annabeth said. "You don't want that thing touching you. Otherwise, don't worry. We'll take the banner from Ares. Has Luke given you your job?"

"Border patrol, whatever that means."

"It's easy. Stand by the creek, keep the reds away. Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan."

Annabeth pushed ahead and I fast walked to catch up with her again.

"Who's that kid?" I asked her and turned to look at her again.

"His name is Percy Jackson, and he drools in his sleep."

I nodded and looked forward again.

I looked around, it was night time, very warm, fireflies in and out of view. Annabeth started assigning spots to people, she assigned me somewhere in the woods, in a tree. 

I heard the conch horn blow and people cheering and yelling farther in the woods, I waited for someone to come near.

I heard leaves rustling and footsteps echoing through the woods. I jumped down the tree and readied my sword. I saw a person with a red helmet and attacked. I swung my sword at his arm but he dodged. I hit him in the legs making him fall down and stay down.

I looked around for anymore people but saw none.

I decided to go and find the flag. I ran through the woods and found Clarisse and other people from her team fighting against that Percy guy. I narrowed my eyes, getting ready to fight them also but I heard yelling and turned to look. I saw Luke run over to our side with the other team's flag.

I cheered and ran over to Luke. I hugged him and we smiled at each other until everybody picked him up and put him on their shoulders. I turned while smiling to see Annabeth talking to Percy. I quickly ran over and watched as Percy stepped out of the water. 

I then heard Chiron shout, "Stand ready! My bow!" in Greek.

I turned to see a black hound with red eyes and fangs like daggers looking at Percy.

"Run!" I screamed and unsheathed Nikao.

I ran to protect everyone but I was too late and the hound attacked Percy. 

Chiron shot his bow at the hound and trotted up to Percy.

"Di immortales!" Annabeth said. "That's a hellhound from the Fields of Punishment. They don't ... they're not supposed to ..."

"Someone summoned it," Chiron said. "Someone inside the camp."

Luke came over, the banner in his hand forgotten, his moment of glory gone.

Clarisse yelled, "It's all Percy's fault! Percy summoned it!"

"Be quiet, child," Chiron told her.

We watched the body of the hellhound melt into shadow, soaking into the ground until it disappeared.

"You're wounded," Annabeth told Percy. "Quick, Percy, get in the water."

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Annabeth said. "Chiron, watch this."

Percy stepped back into the creek while everyone surrounded.

Percy's cuts closed up but I wasn't surprised, I could do it too. Many people gasped around me. I looked up to where they were looking at and my eyes widened in surprise. A trident. That meant he was Poseidon's son.

"Percy," Annabeth said, pointing. "Um ..."

By the time he looked up the hologram was already fading.

"Your father," Annabeth murmured. "This is really not good."

"It is determined," Chiron announced.

All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it. I walked to stand beside Chiron, looking at Percy.

"My father?" he asked, completely bewildered.

"Poseidon," said Chiron. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God."


	2. 02

It seemed like everyone at camp hated Percy.

Everybody ignored him and talked about him behind his back.

Everyday I would smile at him, to let him know he is not alone, that not everybody hated him.

I went to sleep one night and dreamed of nothing, which was very odd.

I woke up and looked out my window, seeing a dark sky, even though it was morning. I got out of bed and dressed. I went to the Big House to see Chiron. I walked into the house to see Percy and Grover there, already talking with Chiron. They stopped their conversation to look at me.

"Hi," I said awkwardly. "Can I sit?" I gestured to the chair beside Chiron.

Chiron nodded his head and turned back to Percy. I sat down on the seat next to him.

"This is Ariana," Chiron said. "She is the daughter of all 12 Olympians, which means she's a goddess. She often visits us here in Camp Half Blood."

Percy stared at me for a moment with his mouth open a bit before they continued with their conversation.

"Right.. where were we? Oh yeah, you'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before you're done."

"Done ... with what?"

"Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?"

"Um, sir," Percy said, "you haven't told me what it is yet."

Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."

Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach.

"Poseidon and Zeus," Percy said. "They're fighting over something valuable ... something that was stolen, aren't they?"

Chiron, Grover, and I exchanged looks.

Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"

"The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And ... I've also been having these dreams."

"I knew it," Grover said.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered.

"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."

Percy laughed nervously. "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?"

"Stolen," Chiron said.

"By who?"

"By whom," Chiron corrected. "By you."

I stared at Percy with a concerned expression as his mouth fell open.

"At least"—Chiron held up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't—"

"Patience and listen, child," Chiron said. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt, and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his son. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief."

"But I've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!"

Chiron, Grover, and I glanced nervously at the sky.

"Er, Percy ...?" Grover said. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."

I nodded.

"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy as if he actually expected him to remember question thirty-eight.

Chiron was waiting for an answer.

"Something about a golden net?" Percy guessed. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods ... they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?"

"Correct," Chiron said. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along—the proverbial last straw."

"But I'm just a kid!"

"Percy," Grover cut in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, that he's fathered a new mortal hero who might be used as a weapon against you.... Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"

"But I didn't do anything. Poseidon—my dad—he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Chiron sighed.

"Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia or Ariana here would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like, Percy?"

"Bad?" Percy guessed.

"Imagine the world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight."

"Bad," Percy repeated.

"And you, Percy Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."

It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky.

"So I have to find the stupid bolt," Percy said. "And return it to Zeus."

"What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the son of Poseidon return Zeus's property?"

"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?"

"I believe I know." Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago ... well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."

"Why can't you tell me where the bolt is beforehand?"

"Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge."

"Good reason."

"You agree then?" Percy looked at Grover, who nodded encouragingly.

"All right," Percy said. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

Percy walked up the flight of stairs.

I turned to Chiron with a worried expression.

"What if he doesn't make it out of this alive?" I asked Chiron and looked out of the window.

"We can only hope he will."

Percy walked down the stairs and sat back in his chair.

"Well?" Chiron asked him.

"She said I would retrieve what was stolen." Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!"

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important."

"She . .. she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

"I knew it," Grover said.

Chiron didn't look satisfied.

"Anything else?"

"No," Percy said. "That's about it."

I knew he was lying and was hiding something.

Chiron studied his face. "Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."

"Okay," Percy said. "So where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?"

"Somebody else who wants to take over?" he guessed.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

"Hades." Chiron and Ariana nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?"

"A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminded him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."

"Yes, but—but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protested. "Especially if he has found out Percy is a son of Poseidon..."

"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest."

"Great," Percy muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me."

I look at him sadly but give him a smile.

"But a quest to ..." Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."

"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."

"Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy told Chiron and Ariana, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."

"Suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron said. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?"

"What about Ariana?"

"If she even tried she would probably be locked in the Underworld."

"Okay, so you're saying I'm being used."

"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon has claimed you now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs you."

Percy looked at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"

"I had my suspicions. As I said ... I've spoken to the Oracle, too."

"So let me get this straight," Percy said. "I'm supposed go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron said.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right." he looked at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts.

"Did I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" Grover asked weakly.

"You don't have to go," Percy told him. "I can't ask that of you."

"Oh ..." He shifted his hooves. "No ... it's just that satyrs and underground places ... well..."

He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his Tshirt. "You saved my life, Percy. If ... if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down."

"All the way, G-man." Percy turned to Chiron. "So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go west."

"The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America."

"Where?" Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

"Oh," Percy said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane—"

"No!" Grover shrieked. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?"

He shook his head.

"Percy, think," Chiron said. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."

"That is true, it's very difficult living with fathers that hate each other." I added.

Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed.

"Okay," Percy said. "So, I'll travel overland."

"That's right," Chiron said. "Three companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept her help."

"Gee," he said, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?"

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain," Annabeth said. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."

I turned around to look at Annabeth and smiled at her.

"If you do say so yourself," Percy said. "Who's the other?"

"I'll go." I volunteered and turned back to look at Chiron. "I'll keep them safe. I think Hades will let me in if I go with demigods. I'll try to keep the peace."

Chiron nodded.

"A foursome," Percy said. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing."


	3. 03

It took me long to pack. I decided to grab some outfits that I put in the bag.

Chiron gave Annabeth, Percy, and I each a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It was god food, Chiron reminded Annabeth and Percy. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn them up, literally.

Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she had told me long ago had been a twelfth birthday present from her mom. She carried a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve.

I was bringing my dagger and knife, which was hidden in the pocket of my jeans.

Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.

We waved good-bye to the other campers, took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean, and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus.

Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair.

"This is Argus," Chiron told me. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

I heard footsteps behind us. Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes and a box.

"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you."

Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around.

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told Percy. "And I thought ... um, maybe you could use these."

He handed Percy the sneakers, which looked pretty normal. They even smelled kind of normal.

Luke said, "Maia!"

White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling him so much, Percy dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared.

"Awesome!" Grover said. Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turned sad.

"Hey, man," Percy said. "Thanks."

"Listen, Percy ..." Luke looked uncomfortable. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just ... kill some monsters for me, okay?"

They shook hands. Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, gave a good-bye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out, then talked a bit to me.

"Hey.. Ariana.. I just wanted to give you a gift before you leave." Luke said, blushing a bit and giving me a box.

"That's so sweet! Thank you!" I said and opened the box which revealed a necklace (on the outfit from before.)

"I hope you like it." Luke smiles at me.

"It's beautiful! Thank you!" I hugged him and he put it on my neck.

After Luke was gone, Percy told Annabeth, "You're hyperventilating."

"Am not."

"You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn't you?"

"Oh ... why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?" She stomped down the other side of the hill, where a white SUV waited on the shoulder of the road. Argus followed, jingling his car keys.

Percy picked up the flying shoes. He looked at Chiron. "I won't be able to use these, will I?"

He shook his head. "Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air ... that would not be wise for you."

Percy nodded, disappointed, but then Percy got an idea. "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?"

His eyes lit up. "Me?"

Pretty soon we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy was ready for launch.

"Maia!" he shouted.

He got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron called after him. "You just need practice!"

"Aaaaa!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading toward the van.

Before Percy could follow, Chiron caught his arm. "I should have trained you better, Percy," he said. "If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason—they all got more training."

I watched Grover as he was flying and ran after him.

* * *

 

Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. "So far so good," Percy told Annabeth. "Ten miles and not a single monster."

She gave him an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain."

"Remind me again—why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't hate you."

"Could've fooled me."

She folded her cap of invisibility. "Look ... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals."

"Why?"

She sighed. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her."

"They must really like olives."

"Oh, forget it."

"Now, if she'd invented pizza—that I could understand."

"I said, forget it!"

"Guys calm down. Stop arguing."

In the front seat, Argus smiled. Traffic slowed us down in Queens. By the time we got into Manhattan it was sunset and starting to rain.

Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side.

Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Grover shouldered his backpack. He gazed down the street in the direction Percy was looking. "You want to know why she married him, Percy?"

Percy stared at him. "Were you reading my mind or something?"

"Just your emotions." He shrugged. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that. You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right?"

Percy nodded.

"Your mom married Gabe for you," Grover told him. "You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. The guy has this aura.... Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven't been near him for a week."

"Thanks," Percy said. "Where's the nearest shower?"

"You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better."

I looked sympathetically at Percy while hearing about his issues at home.

The rain kept coming down.

We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever. Percy was pretty good. I was horrible, though. The apple always ended up falling to the ground.

The game ended when Percy tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all.

Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but Annabeth, Percy, and I were too busy cracking up.

Finally the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing."

I overheard the conversation and could tell it wasn't nothing. I started looking over my shoulder, too. I was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. We stowed our backpacks. Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh. I was admiring the necklace Luke gave me.

As the last passengers got on, Annabeth clamped her hand onto Percy's knee. "Percy."

I looked up and saw an old lady had just boarded the bus. She wore a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, and a shapeless orange-knit hat that shadowed her face, and she carried a big paisley purse. When she tilted her head up, her black eyes glittered, and my eyes widened.

It was a Fury.

Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise they looked exactly like the other one—same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dresses. Triplet demon grandmothers.

They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves.

The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," Percy said. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"I said if you're lucky," Annabeth said. "You're obviously not."

"All three of them," Grover whimpered. "Di immortales!"

"Calm down.." I soothed.

"It's okay," Annabeth said, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moaned.

"A back exit?" she suggested.

There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"They won't attack us with witnesses around," Percy said. "Will they?"

"Mortals don't have good eyes," I reminded him. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."

"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?"

I thought about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help."

"Maybe an emergency exit in the roof ... ?" Annabeth inquired.

We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

One of them got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the rest-room."

"So do I," said the second sister.

"So do I," said the third sister.

They all started coming down the aisle.

"I've got it," Annabeth said. "Percy, take my hat."

"What?"

"You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away."

"But you guys—"

"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth said. "You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."

"What about Ariana?" he asked.

"Don't worry about me!" I said.

"I can't just leave you." Percy said.

"Don't worry about us," Grover said. "Go!"

Percy took the Yankees cap and put it on.

The old ladies were not old ladies anymore. Their faces were still the same—I guess those couldn't get any uglier— but their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws. Their handbags had turned into fiery whips.

The Furies surrounded Grover, Annabeth, and I lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

The other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right.

"He's not here!" Annabeth yelled. "He's gone!"

The Furies raised their whips.

Annabeth drew her bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it. I drew Kairos and reached for Amaranthine.

Suddenly the bus swerved. Everybody howled as they were thrown to the right.

"Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey—whoa!"

The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind us. I hit the side of the bus, hitting my head, my vision blurry. I could barely see as we careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters tossed around the bus, cars plowed aside like bowling pins.

Somehow the driver found an exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river.

The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him. Blood was coming out of my mouth but I stood up, dizzy and stumbling.

The Furies regained their balance.

They lashed their whips at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans. I was getting ready to fight.

Percy took off the invisible cap. "Hey!"

The Furies turned, baring their yellow fangs at him. One of them stalked up the aisle. Every time she flicked her whip, red flames danced along the barbed leather. Her two ugly sisters hopped on top of the seats on either side of her and crawled toward me like huge nasty lizards.

"Perseus Jackson," she said, in an accent that was definitely from somewhere farther south than Georgia. "You have offended the gods. You shall die."

"I liked you better as a math teacher," Percy told her.

She growled.

Annabeth and Grover moved up behind the Furies cautiously, looking for an opening. I also inched foward, Kairos in hand.

Percy took a ballpoint pen out of his pocket and uncapped it. His sword elongated into a shimmering double-edged sword.

The Furies hesitated.

"Submit now," she hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."

"Nice try," Percy told her.

"Percy, look out!" I cried.

One of them lashed her whip around Percy's sword hand while the Furies on the either side lunged at him. He stuck the Fury on the left with its hilt, sending her toppling backward into a seat. He turned and sliced the Fury on the right. As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust.

Annabeth got one of the furies in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands.

"Ow!" he yelled. "Ow! Hot! Hot!"

The Fury Percy had hilt-slammed came at him again, talons ready, but I stabbed Kairos into her and she broke open like a piñata.

Percy nodded at me in thanks and I nodded back.

The Fury was trying to get Annabeth off her back. She kicked, clawed, hissed and bit, but Annabeth held on while Grover got her legs tied up in her own whip. Finally they both shoved her backward into the aisle. She tried to get up, but she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down.

"Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!"

"Braccas meas vescimini!" Percy yelled.

I looked at him with a confused expression. I think it was Latin and meant "Eat my pants!"

Thunder shook the bus.

"Get out!" I yelled at Percy. "Now!"

We rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped Percy's photograph before he could recap his sword.

"Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our—"

BOOOOOM!

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me a Fury was not yet dead. I almost cried because all my stuff was gone.


	4. 04

Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses.

Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."

The explosion of bus windows still rang in my ears. But Annabeth kept pulling us along, saying: "Come on! The farther away we get, the better."

"All our money was back there," Percy reminded her. "Our food and clothes. Everything." Tears welled in my eyes just thinking about all my stuff.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—"

"What did you want me to do? Let you get killed?"

"You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine."

"Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine."

"Shut up, goat boy," said Annabeth.

"Guys.. calm down.. we're not getting anywhere fighting like this." I said.

Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans ... a perfectly good bag of tin cans."

We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry. After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to Percy and I.

"Look, I..." Her voice faltered. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave."

"Yeah.. it was." I smiled warmly at Percy before turning my head to look forward.

"We're a team, right?"

Annabeth was silent for a few more steps.

"It's just that if you died ... aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world."

The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. I couldn't see anything of Annabeth except a glint of her blond hair.

"You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" Percy asked her.

"No ... only short field trips. My dad—"

"The history professor."

"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." She was rushing her words out now, as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not."

"You're pretty good with that knife," I said.

"You think so?" Annabeth said.

"Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by me." Percy said.

"You know," she said, "maybe I should tell you ... Something funny back on the bus ..."

"Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a 'find path' song, we could get out of these woods!"

He puffed out a few notes, but the tune still sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff.

I started to see light up ahead: the colors of a neon sign. I realized I hadn't eaten anything unhealthy since I'd arrived at Mount Olympus, which was pretty much my whole life.

We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light. I realized it was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that.

"What the heck does that say?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," Annabeth said.

She loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic.

Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium."

Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken. I crossed the street, following the smell of the hamburgers.

"Hey ..." Grover warned.

"The lights are on inside," Annabeth said.

"Maybe it's open," I suggested.

"Snack bar," Percy said wistfully.

"Snack bar," Annabeth agreed.

"Are you three crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird."

We ignored him. The front lot was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps.

"Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!"

We stopped at the warehouse door.

"Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters."

"Your nose is clogged up from the Furies," Annabeth told him. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?"

"Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian."

"Me too!" I pouted.

"You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminum cans," Percy reminded him.

"Those are vegetables. Come on. Let's leave. These statues are ... looking at me."

Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman—at least, I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-colored hands looked old, but well-manicured and elegant, so I imagined she was a grandmother who had once been a beautiful lady. Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too.

She said, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?"

"They're ... um ..." Annabeth started to say.

"We're orphans," Percy said.

"Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!"

"We got separated from our caravan," Percy said. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?"

"Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area."

We thanked her and went inside.

Annabeth muttered to me, "Circus caravan? What is this guy thinking?"

The warehouse was filled with more statues—people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. I was thinking you'd have to have a pretty huge garden to fit even one of these statues, because they were all life-size.

There it was at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser.

"Please, sit down," Aunty Em said.

"Awesome," Percy said.

"Um," Grover said reluctantly, "we don't have any money, ma'am."

Aunty Em said, "No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans."

"Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth said.

"Yes, really, thank you." I smiled sweetly at her.

Aunty Em stiffened, as if Annabeth and I had done something wrong, but then the old woman relaxed just as quickly, so I figured it must've been my imagination.

"Quite all right, Annabeth and Ariana," she said. "You have such beautiful gray eyes, Annabeth. And Ariana, your brown eyes are just so pretty also."

I wondered how she knew our names, even though we had never introduced ourselves. Our hostess disappeared behind the snack counter and started cooking. Before we knew it, she'd brought us plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL servings of French fries.

Percy was munching on a burger. Annabeth slurped her shake. Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat. I nibbled at my fries.

"What's that hissing noise?" he asked.

I listened, but didn't hear anything. Annabeth shook her head.

"Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover."

"I take vitamins. For my ears."

"That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax."

Aunty Em ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her headdress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat. It was a little unsettling, having someone stare at me when I couldn't see her face.

"So, you sell gnomes," Percy said, trying to sound interested.

"Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know."

"A lot of business on this road?"

"Not so much, no. Since the highway was built... most cars, they do not go this way now. I must cherish every customer I get."

My neck tingled, as if somebody else was looking at me. I turned, but it was just a statue of a young girl holding an Easter basket. The detail was incredible, much better than you see in most garden statues. But something was wrong with her face. It looked as if she were startled, or even terrified.

"Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face."

"You make these statues yourself?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company."

Annabeth had stopped eating. She sat forward and said, "Two sisters?"

"It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a... a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price."

"Percy?" Annabeth was shaking Percy to get his attention. "Maybe we should go. I mean, the ringmaster will be waiting." She sounded tense.

Grover was eating the waxed paper off the tray now, but if Aunty Em found that strange, she didn't say anything.

"Such beautiful brown eyes," Aunty Em told me again. "My, yes, it has been a long time since I've seen brown eyes like those." She reached out as if to stroke my cheek, but I stood up abruptly. "We really should go."

"Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. "The ringmaster is waiting! Right!"

"Please, dears," Aunty Em pleaded. "I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, won't you at least sit for a pose?"

"A pose?" Annabeth asked warily.

"A photograph. I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children."

Annabeth shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I don't think we can, ma'am. Come on, Percy—"

"Sure we can," Percy said.

I turned to him, my eyes widened.

"It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?" he said.

"Yes, Annabeth," the woman purred. "No harm."

I could tell Annabeth didn't like it, I didn't either, but she allowed Aunty Em to lead us back out the front door, into the garden of statues.

Aunty Em directed us to a park bench next to the stone satyr.

"Now," she said, "I'll just position you correctly. The two young girls in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side."

"Not much light for a photo," Percy remarked.

"Oh, enough," Aunty Em said. "Enough for us to see each other, yes?"

"Where's your camera?" Grover asked.

Aunty Em stepped back, as if to admire the shot. "Now, the face is the most difficult. Can you smile for me please, everyone? A large smile?"

Grover glanced at the cement satyr next to him, and mumbled, "That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand."

"Grover," Aunty Em chastised, "look this way, dear."

She still had no camera in her hands.

"Percy—" Annabeth said.

"I will just be a moment," Aunty Em said. "You know, I can't see you very well in this cursed veil...."

"Percy, something's wrong," Annabeth insisted.

"Very wrong," I agreed.

"Wrong?" Aunty Em said, reaching up to undo the wrap around her head. "Not at all, dears. I have such noble company tonight. What could be wrong?"

"That is Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover gasped.

"Look away from her!" I shouted. Annabeth whipped her Yankees cap onto her head and vanished. Her invisible hands pushed Grover and Percy off the bench.

I was standing up, my eyes closed tightly.

I could hear Grover scrambling off in one direction, Annabeth in another, and I think Percy ran away. But I was too scared to move. Then I heard a strange, rasping sound above me. My eyes rose to Aunty Em's hands, which had turned gnarled and warty, with sharp bronze talons for fingernails.

I almost looked higher, but somewhere off to my left Annabeth screamed, "No! Don't!"

More rasping—the sound of tiny snakes, right above me, from ... from about where Aunty Em's head would be.

"Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, "Maia!" to kick-start his flying sneakers. I couldn't move. I stared at Aunty Em's gnarled claws.

"Such a pity to destroy a beautiful young face," she told me soothingly. "Stay with me, Ariana. All you have to do is look up."

I fought the urge to obey. Instead I continued to close my eyes.

"The Gray-Eyed One did this to me, Ariana," Medusa said, and she didn't sound anything like a monster. Her voice invited me to look up, to sympathize with a poor old grandmother. "Annabeth's mother, your mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this."

"Don't listen to her!" Annabeth's voice shouted, somewhere in the statuary. "Run, Ariana!"

"Silence!" Medusa snarled. Then her voice modulated back to a comforting purr. "You see why I must destroy the girl, Ariana. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Ariana, you need not suffer."

"No, leave me alone." I muttered, tears coming to my eyes. I tried to make my legs move.

"Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what you were created for? You were just created for their protection."

"Ariana!" Behind me, I heard a buzzing sound, like a two-hundred-pound hummingbird in a nosedive.

Grover yelled, "Duck!" I turned, and there he was in the night sky, flying in from twelve o'clock with his winged shoes fluttering, Grover, holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut tight, his head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone.

"Duck!" he yelled again. "I'll get her!"

I dove to one side.

Thwack!

At first I figured it was the sound of Grover hitting a tree. Then Medusa roared with rage.

"You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!"

"That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back. I scrambled away and hid in the statuary while Grover swooped down for another pass.

Ker-whack!

"Arrgh!" Medusa yelled, her snake-hair hissing and spitting.

Right next to me, Annabeth's voice said, "Ariana!" I jumped so high my feet nearly cleared a garden gnome.

"Where's Percy?" Annabeth took off her Yankees cap and became visible. Percy ran over to where we were crouching.

"You have to cut her head off." Annabeth said to Percy.

"What? Are you crazy? Let's get out of here." Percy answered back.

"Medusa is a menace. She's evil. I'd kill her myself, but..." Annabeth swallowed, as if she were about to make a difficult admission. "But you've got the better weapon. Besides, I'd never get close to her. She'd slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you've got a chance."

"What? I can't—"

"Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?" She pointed to a pair of statue lovers, a man and a woman with their arms around each other, turned to stone by the monster. Annabeth grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. "A polished shield would be better." She studied the sphere critically. "The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of—"

"Would you speak English?"

"I am!" She tossed him the glass ball. "Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly."

"Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!"

"Roooaaarrr!"

"Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch.

"Hurry," Annabeth told him. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash."

He took out his pen and uncapped it. The bronze blade of his sword elongated in his hand.

I slouched against the statue, taking big breaths, trying to catch my breath while we wait.

I heard Percy yell, "Hey!"

"You wouldn't harm an old woman, Percy," she crooned. "I know you wouldn't."

Grover moaned, "Percy, don't listen to her!"

Medusa cackled. "Too late."

I heard the slash of a sword and a sickening shlock!, then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern—the sound of a monster disintegrating.

"Oh, yuck," Grover said. His eyes were still tightly closed, but I guess he could hear the thing gurgling and steaming.

"Mega-yuck." Annabeth came up next to Percy as I followed behind, her eyes fixed on the sky. She was holding Medusa's black veil.

She said, "Don't move."

Very, very carefully, without looking down, she knelt and draped the monster's head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice.

"Are you okay?" she asked Percy, her voice trembling.

"Yeah," he decided. "Why didn't ... why didn't the head evaporate?"

"Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war," I said.

"Same as your minotaur horn. But don't unwrap the head. It can still petrify you." Annabeth added.

Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flying aimlessly around his head.

"The Red Baron," Percy said. "Good job, man."

He managed a bashful grin. "That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun."

He snatched his shoes out of the air. Percy recapped his sword. Together, the three of us stumbled back to the warehouse. We found some old plastic grocery bags behind the snack counter and double-wrapped Medusa's head. We plopped it on the table where we'd eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak. Finally Percy said, "So we have Athena to thank for this monster?"

Annabeth flashed him an irritated look. "Your dad, actually. Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up. She's still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him."

Percy's face was burning. "Oh, so now it's my fault we met Medusa."

Annabeth straightened. In a bad imitation of his voice, she said: "'It's just a photo, Annabeth. What's the harm?'"

"Forget it," Percy said. "You're impossible."

"You're insufferable."

"You're—"

"Hey!" I interrupted.

"You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?" Grover said.

I stared at the thing. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS!

"I'll be back." Percy said.

"Percy," I called after him. "What are you—"

Percy came back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip:

The Gods  
Mount Olympus  
600th Floor,  
Empire State Building  
New York, NY  
With best wishes, PERCY JACKSON

"They're not going to like that," I warned. "They'll think you're impertinent."

Percy poured some golden drachmas in the pouch. As soon as he closed it, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a pop!

"I am impertinent," Percy said.

"Come on," Annabeth muttered. "We need a new plan."


	5. 05

We were pretty miserable that night.

We camped out in the woods, a hundred yards from the main road, in a marshy clearing that local kids had obviously been using for parties. The ground was littered with flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers.

We'd taken some food and blankets from Aunty Em's, but we didn't dare light a fire to dry our damp clothes. The Furies and Medusa had provided enough excitement for one day. We didn't want to attract anything else.

We decided to sleep in shifts. Percy volunteered to take first watch.

Annabeth curled up on the blankets and was snoring as soon as her head hit the ground. Grover fluttered with his flying shoes to the lowest bough of a tree, put his back to the trunk, and stared at the night sky. I layed down and curled up on the blankets like Annabeth and closed my eyes. I fell asleep instantly.

In my dream I was literally doing nothing. My younger self just sat there, staring at a wall, which I do not remember doing when I was younger.

I woke up to someone shaking me. My eyes opened, and it was daylight.

"Well," Annabeth said, "finally you're awake. Now we have to wake Percy."

"I'll wake him up." I told her and walked over to where he was sleeping.

I shook him a bit.

"Wake up Percy ..." I whispered softly and continued to shake him. Eventually he woke up.

"How long was I asleep?" he asked.

"Long enough for me to cook breakfast." Annabeth said and I turned around right as she tossed me and him a bag of nacho-flavored corn chips from Aunty Em's snack bar.

"And Grover went exploring. Look, he found a friend."

Grover was sitting cross-legged on a blanket with something fuzzy in his lap, a dirty, unnaturally pink stuffed animal.

No. It wasn't a stuffed animal. It was a pink poodle. The poodle yapped.

Grover said, "No, he's not."

"Are you ... talking to that thing?" Percy asked.

The poodle growled.

"This thing," Grover warned, "is our ticket west. Be nice to him."

"You can talk to animals?"

Grover ignored the question. "Percy and Ariana, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Ariana and Percy."

"Hi you cute thing." I said and walked over to pet the poodle.

"I'm not saying hello to a pink poodle," Percy said. "Forget it."

"Percy," Annabeth said. "I said hello to the poodle. Ariana said hello to the poodle. You say hello to the poodle."

The poodle growled.

Percy said hello to the poodle.

Grover explained that he'd come across Gladiola in the woods and they'd struck up a conversation. The poodle had run away from a rich local family, who'd posted a $200 reward for his return. Gladiola didn't really want to go back to his family, but he was willing to if it meant helping Grover.

"How does Gladiola know about the reward?" Percy asked.

"He read the signs," Grover said. "Duh."

"Of course," Percy said. "Silly me."

"So we turn in Gladiola," Annabeth explained in her best strategy voice, "we get money, and we buy tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."

"Not another bus," I said warily.

"No," Annabeth agreed.

She pointed downhill, toward train tracks I hadn't been able to see last night in the dark. "There's an Amtrak station half a mile that way. According to Gladiola, the westbound train leaves at noon."

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain.

We weren't attacked once, but I didn't relax. I felt that we were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity.

Percy tried to keep a low profile because his name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. The Trenton Register-News showed a photo taken by a tourist as he got off the Greyhound bus. He had a wild look in his eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands.

The picture's caption read:

Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with two teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.

"Don't worry," Annabeth told him. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound so sure.

The rest of the day I spent sitting down on the seat of the train, looking out the window.

Once, I spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. I looked around the passenger car, but nobody else had noticed. The adult riders all had their faces buried in laptop computers or magazines.

Another time, toward evening, I saw something huge moving through the woods. I could've sworn it was a lion, except that lions don't live wild in America, and this thing was the size of a Hummer. Its fur glinted gold in the evening light. Then it leaped through the trees and was gone.

Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats.

Grover kept snoring and bleating. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth, Percy, and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.

"So," Annabeth asked Percy, once we'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted. "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?"

Percy told us. Annabeth and I were quiet for a long time. "That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs." I said.

"He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?"

"I guess ... if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?" I said.

Grover snorted in his sleep, muttered something about vegetables, and turned his head.

I readjusted his cap so it covered his horns.

"Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time—" Annabeth said.

"This time?" Percy asked. "You mean you've run into them before?"

Her hand crept up to her necklace which was just like mine. She fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of a pine tree, one of her clay end-of-summer tokens.

"Let's just say I've got no love for the Lord of the Dead. You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom."

"What would you do if it was your dad?"

"That's easy," she said. "I'd leave him to rot."

"You're not serious?"

Annabeth's gray eyes fixed on him.

"My dad's resented me since the day I was born, Percy," she said. "He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent."

I looked at Annabeth with a sad expression. She had already explained this to me a few years back.

"But how ... I mean, I guess you weren't born in a hospital...."

"I appeared on my father's doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by Zephyr the West Wind. You'd think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he'd take some digital photos or something. But he always talked about my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a 'regular' mortal wife, and had two 'regular' mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn't exist."

I turn and stared out the train window. The lights of a sleeping town were drifting by. I wanted to make Annabeth feel better, but I didn't know how.

"My mom married a really awful guy," Percy told her. "Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe that's what your dad was thinking."

"He doesn't care about me," she said. "His wife—my stepmom—treated me like a freak. She wouldn't let me play with her children. My dad went along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened—you know, something with monsters—they would both look at me resentfully, like, 'How dare you put our family at risk.' Finally, I took the hint. I wasn't wanted. I ran away."

"How old were you?"

"Same age as when I started camp. Seven."

"But ... you couldn't have gotten all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself."

"Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guided me toward help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway."

Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis. Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch, which looked to me like a huge shopping bag handle stuck on the city.

"I want to do that," she sighed.

"Hopefully you will one day." I smiled.

"What?" Percy asked.

"Build something like that. You ever see the Parthenon, Percy?"

"Only in pictures."

"Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods, ever. Something that'll last a thousand years."

Percy laughed. "You? An architect?"

"Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention."

"Guys, you forget you're insulting me too. Say sorry to him." I said.

"Sorry," Annabeth said. "That was mean."

"Can't we work together a little?" Percy pleaded. "I mean, didn't Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?"

"I guess ... the chariot," she said tentatively. "My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete."

"Then we can cooperate, too. Right?"

We rode into the city.

"I suppose," she said at last.

We pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told us we'd have a three-hour layover before departing for Denver.

Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, "Food."

"Come on, goat boy," Annabeth said. "Sightseeing."

"Sightseeing?"

"The Gateway Arch," she said. "This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah, let's go." I shrugged.

Grover shrugged. "As long as there's a snack bar without monsters."

The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren't that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts about how the Arch was built.

I kept looking around, though, at the other people in line.

"Underground," Grover said distastefully. "Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn't mean anything." But something felt wrong to me.

"Guys," Percy said. "You know the gods' symbols of power?"

Annabeth had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but she looked over. "Yeah?"

"Well, Hade—"

Grover cleared his throat. "We're in a public place.... You mean, our friend downstairs?"

"Um, right," Percy said. "Our friend way downstairs. Doesn't he have a hat like Annabeth's?"

"You mean the Helm of Darkness," I said. "Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I see it when I visit him, which is rarely."

"Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting." Annabeth added.

"He was there?" Percy asked.

She nodded. "It's the only time he's allowed to visit Olympus—the darkest day of the year. But his helm is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I've heard is true...."

"It allows him to become darkness," I confirmed. "He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can't be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?"

"But then ... how do we know he's not here right now, watching us?" Percy asked.

"We don't," Grover said.

"Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better," Percy said. "Got any blue jelly beans left?"

We got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. I figured maybe the dog was a seeing-eye Chihuahua, because none of the guards said a word about it.

We started going up, inside the Arch. I'd never been in an elevator that went in a curve, and my stomach wasn't too happy about it.

"No parents?" the fat lady asked us.

She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much, she looked like a blue-jean blimp.

"They're below," Annabeth told her. "Scared of heights."

"Oh, the poor darlings."

The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, "Now, now, sonny. Behave." The dog had beady eyes like its owner, intelligent and vicious.

Percy said, "Sonny. Is that his name?"

"No," the lady told him.

She smiled.

At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can with carpeting. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other. The view was okay.

Annabeth kept talking about structural supports, and how she would've made the windows bigger, and designed a see-through floor. She probably could've stayed up there for hours, but the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes.

Percy steered Grover, Annabeth, and I toward the exit, loaded us into the elevator, and he was about to get in himself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for him.

The park ranger said, "Next car, sir."

"We'll get out," I said. "We'll wait with you."

"Naw, it's okay. I'll see you guys at the bottom." Percy said.

We let the elevator door slide shut. Our car disappeared down the ramp. I looked around nervously and waited patiently. Finally we reached the bottom and waited or Percy. I heard an explosion and looked up to see a hole in the arch.

"Guys. I think Percy's still in there." I said, worried.

We went to go look for Percy and found many people from the news reporting an incident.

"Perrr-cy!" Grover bleated.

I turned to see Percy standing there.

Grover tackled him into a bear hug—or goat hug. He said, "We thought you'd gone to Hades the hard way!"

"Percy, you're okay.. I was so worried." I hugged him for a while before pulling away and kissing him on the cheek.

He blushed a deep red.

Annabeth stood behind him, trying to look angry, but even she seemed relieved to see him. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened?"

"I sort of fell." he said, a slight blush still dusted on his cheeks.

"Percy! Six hundred and thirty feet?"

Behind us, a cop shouted, "Gangway!"

The crowd parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a woman on a stretcher. She was saying, "And then this huge dog, this huge firebreathing Chihuahua—"

"Okay, ma'am," the paramedic said. "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is starting to kick in."

"I'm not crazy! This boy jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared." Then she saw Percy. "There he is! That's the boy!"

Percy turned quickly and pulled Annabeth, Grover, and I behind him. We disappeared into the crowd.

"What's going on?" I demanded. "Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the elevator?"

Percy told us the whole story of the Chimera, Echidna, his high-dive act, and the underwater lady's message.

"Whoa," said Grover. "We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore a summons from your dad."

We passed another reporter doing a news break, and he said, "Percy Jackson. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has learned that the boy who may have caused this explosion fits the description of a young man wanted by authorities for a serious New Jersey bus accident three days ago. And the boy is believed to be traveling west. For our viewers at home, here is a photo of Percy Jackson."

We ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley.

"First things first," Percy told Grover. "We've got to get out of town!"

Somehow, we made it back to the Amtrak station without getting spotted. We got on board the train just before it pulled out for Denver. The train trundled west as darkness fell, police lights still pulsing against the St. Louis skyline behind us.


	6. 06

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. We hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and I was sure that was obvious.

"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit."

"We can't use phones, right?" Percy said.

"I'm not talking about phones."

We wandered through downtown for about half an hour. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at me, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city.

Finally we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. We were four adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure we were up to no good.

"What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun.

"It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?"

"Don't look at me," she said. "The dining car wiped me out."

Percy fished out his last bit of change and passed Grover a quarter.

"Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."

"What are you talking about?" Percy asked.

He fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST.

"I-M'ing."

"Instant messaging?"

"Iris-messaging," I corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."

"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?"

Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."

Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors.

Annabeth held her palm out to Percy. "Drachma, please."

He handed it over.

She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering."

She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.

"Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then I was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow.

"Luke!" Percy called.

He turned, eyes wide.

"Percy!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth and Ariana, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?"

"We're ... uh ... fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—"

"He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?"

"I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision. "What kind of issues?"

Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement.

"Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled.

"I'll take care of it.'" Annabeth yelled back, looking very relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight. "Grover and Ariana, come on!"

"What?" Grover said. "But—"

"Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" she ordered.

Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he handed Percy the spray gun and followed Annabeth. I followed both of them but turned back and smiled at Luke.

In the next stall, I heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically.

When I got close to the stall the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash.

Annabeth and Grover came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw Percy's face. Annabeth's smile faded.

"What happened, Percy? What did Luke say?"

"Not much," he said. "Come on, let's find some dinner."

A few minutes later, we were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas.

Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"Well?" Percy said, "We, um, want to order dinner."

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

Grover's lower lip quivered. I was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger. I decided to look in the window to see what I looked like because boys kept staring at me.

Then a rumble shook the whole building; I turned to see a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb.

All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like ... well, Caucasian human skin.

He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades. I knew who he was.

It was Ares.

As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but Ares waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

Ares said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window.

He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?"

He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen.

Ares looked at Percy. I couldn't see his eyes but I knew it was him.

Usually when he was around people would start to feel angry and bitter. I knew better, though, he was my father after all. I was taught to contain that.

He gave Percy a wicked grin. "So you're old Seaweed's kid, huh?"

"What's it to you?" Percy said.

I gave him a warning. "Percy, this is—"

Ares raised his hand.

"S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?"

"You're Clarisse's dad," Percy said. "Ares, god of war."

Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear."

"She was asking for it."

"Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for—I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you."

The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes.

Ares handed her a few gold drachmas.

She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't ..."

Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?"

The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold.

"Ares, you can't just ..." I started.

"Don't worry Ariana." Ares cut me off.

"You can't do that," Percy told Ares. "You can't just threaten people with a knife."

I nodded.

Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition. I need you to do me a favor."

"What favor could I do for a god?" Percy asked.

"Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little ... date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me."

"Why don't you go back and get it yourself?"

The fire in his eye sockets glowed a little hotter. "Why don't I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward. "Or maybe you only fight when there's a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you."

"We're not interested," I said. "We've already got a quest."

Ares's fiery eyes made me see things I didn't want to see—blood and smoke and corpses on the battlefield. "I know all about your quest," He turned towards Percy. "When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful ..." He licked his lips. "Well ... if I couldn't find it, you got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your dad and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath."

"You told him Hades stole the bolt?" Percy asked.

"Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognized it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest."

"Thanks," Percy grumbled.

"Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you, your friends, and my daughter." Ares looked over to me and smiled.

"We're doing fine on our own." Percy said.

Ares turned back to look at Percy. "Yeah, right. No money. No wheels. No clue what you're up against. Help me out, and maybe I'll tell you something you need to know. Something about your mom."

"My mom?"

He grinned. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

"What interrupted your date?" Percy asked. "Something scare you off?"

Ares bared his teeth. "You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me."

He disappeared.

"Not good," Grover said. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not good."

"Definitely not good." I said and looked Percy who was looking out the window.

"It's probably some kind of trick," Percy said. "Forget Ares. Let's just go."

"We can't," Annabeth said. "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune. He wasn't kidding about turning you into a rodent."

"Why does he need us?"

"Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," I said. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes."

"But this water park ... he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?"

Annabeth said, "I'm afraid we'll have to find out."

The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D.

The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry waterslides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy.

"If Ares brings his girlfriend here for a date," Percy said, staring up at the barbed wire, "I'd hate to see what she looks like."

"Percy," Annabeth warned. "Be more respectful."

"Why? I thought you hated Ares."

"He's still a god. And his girlfriend is very temperamental."

"You don't want to insult her looks," Grover added.

"Definitely not," I agreed.

"Who is she? Echidna?"

"No, Aphrodite," Grover said, a little dreamily. "Goddess of love."

I slapped Grover on the shoulder. "Don't talk about her like that."

"I thought she was married to somebody," Percy said. "Hephaestus."

"What's your point?" Grover asked.

"So how do we get in?"

"Maia!" Grover's shoes sprouted wings. He flew over the fence, did an unintended somersault in midair, then stumbled to a landing on the opposite side. He dusted off his jeans, as if he'd planned the whole thing. "You guys coming?"

Annabeth, Percy, and I had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top.

The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit?

No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise.

We found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of—

"Clothes," Annabeth said. "Fresh clothes."

"Yeah," I said.

"But you can't just—" Percy started.

"Watch me."

She snatched an entire row of stuff of the racks and disappeared into the changing room. A few minutes later she came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-shirt, and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over her shoulder, obviously stuffed with more goodies.

"What the heck." Grover shrugged. Soon, all four of us were decked out like walking advertisements for the defunct theme park.

We continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. I got the feeling that the whole park was holding its breath.

"So Ares and Aphrodite," Percy said, "they have a thing going?"

"That's old gossip, Percy," Annabeth told him. "Three-thousand-year-old gossip."

"What about Aphrodite's husband?"

"Well, you know," she said. "Hephaestus. The blacksmith. He was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus by Zeus. So he isn't exactly handsome. Clever with his hands, and all, but Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent, you know?"

"She likes bikers."

"Whatever."

"Hephaestus knows?"

"Oh sure," I said. "He caught them together once. I mean, literally caught them, in a golden net, and invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. Hephaestus is always trying to embarrass them. That's why they meet in out-of-the-way places, like ..." I stopped, looking straight ahead. "Like that."

In front of us was an empty pool. It was at least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl.

Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE!

Grover crept toward the edge. "Guys, look."

Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze.

"This is too easy," Percy said. "So we just walk down there and get it?"

Annabeth ran her fingers along the base of the nearest Cupid statue. "There's a Greek letter carved here," she said. "Eta. I wonder ..."

"Grover," I said, "you smell any monsters?"

He sniffed the wind. "Nothing."

"Nothing—like, in-the-Arch-and-you-didn't-smell-Echidna nothing, or really nothing?" Percy said.

Grover looked hurt. "I told you, that was underground."

"Okay, I'm sorry." Percy took a deep breath. "I'm going down there."

"I'll go with you." Grover didn't sound too enthusiastic, but I got the feeling he was trying to make up for what had happened in St. Louis.

"No," Percy told him. "I want you to stay up top with the flying shoes. You're the Red Baron, a flying ace, remember? I'll be counting on you for backup, in case something goes wrong."

Grover puffed up his chest a little. "Sure. But what could go wrong?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling. Ariana, come with me—"

"Okay, let's go." I smiled brightly.

Percy's cheeks went bright red and we both walked down. Eventually we reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. I knew it was Aphrodite's.

Percy picked up the scarf. It shimmered pink, and the perfume was indescribable—rose, or mountain laurel. Something good. He smiled, a little dreamy, and was about to rub the scarf against his cheek when I ripped it out of his hand and stuffed it in my pocket.

"Oh, no you don't. Stay away from that love magic."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Let's get the shield and let's get out of here."

"Wait."

"Too late."

"There's another Greek letter on the side of the boat, another Eta. This is a trap."

Noise erupted all around us, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine.

Grover yelled, "Guys!"

Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before I could suggest taking cover, they shot, but not at us. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net.

"We have to get out," Percy said.

"Duh!" I said.

He grabbed the shield and we ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down.

"Come on!" Grover shouted.

He was trying to hold open a section of the net for us, but wherever he touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around his hands. The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in one minute ... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight ..."

"Hephaestus!" I screamed. "I'm so stupid.' Eta is H.' He made this trap to catch Aphrodite with Ares. Now we're going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools! My parents will make fun of me for eternity."

We'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic ... things poured out.

I heard Annabeth scream.

It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, all scuttling toward us in a wave of clacking, whirring metal.

"Spiders!" Annabeth said. "Sp—sp—aaaah!"

She fell backward in terror and Grover helped her up.

The things were coming out from all around the rim now, millions of them, flooding toward the center of the pool, completely surrounding us.

Percy and I climbed into the boat. I started kicking away the spiders as they swarmed aboard. Percy helped also.

"Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker.

The spiders started spitting out strands of metal thread, trying to tie us down. The strands were easy enough to break at first, but there were so many of them, and the spiders just kept coming.

Grover hovered above the pool in his flying sneakers, trying to pull the net loose, but it wouldn't budge.

Think, I told myself. Think.

The Tunnel of Love entrance was under the net. We could use it as an exit, except that it was blocked by a million robot spiders.

"Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called.

Water, I thought. Where does the ride's water come from? Then I saw them: huge water pipes behind the mirrors, where the spiders had come from. And up above the net, next to one of the Cupids, a glass-windowed booth that must be the controller's station.

"Grover!" I yelled. "Get into that booth! Find the 'on' switch!"

"But—"

"Do it!"

It was a crazy hope, but it was our only chance. The spiders were all over the prow of the boat now.

Grover was in the controller's booth now, slamming away at the buttons.

"Five, four—"

Grover looked up at me hopelessly, raising his hands. He was letting me know that he'd pushed every button, but still nothing was happening.

I closed my eyes and thought about waves, rushing water, the Mississippi River. I felt a familiar tug in my gut. I tried to imagine that I was dragging the ocean all the way to Denver.

"Two, one, zero!" Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. I fastened my seat belt just as the tidal wave slammed into our boat, over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing us completely, but not capsizing us. The boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool.

The water was full of short-circuiting spiders, some of them smashing against the pool's concrete wall with such force they burst.

Spotlights glared down at us. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus.

We spun around one last time, the water level now almost high enough to shred us against the metal net. Then the boat's nose turned toward the tunnel and we rocketed through into the darkness.

Percy and I held tight, both of us screaming as the boat shot curls and hugged corners and took forty-five-degree plunges past pictures of Romeo and Juliet and a bunch of other Valentine's Day stuff.

Then we were out of the tunnel, the night air whistling through our hair as the boat barreled straight toward the exit.

If the ride had been in working order, we would've sailed off a ramp between the golden Gates of Love and splashed down safely in the exit pool. But there was a problem. The Gates of Love were chained. Two boats that had been washed out of the tunnel before us were now piled against the barricade—one submerged, the other cracked in half.

"Unfasten your seat belt," Percy yelled to me.

"Are you crazy?"

"Unless you want to get smashed to death."

"We're going to have to jump for it."

I gripped his hand as the gates got closer.

"On my mark," he said.

"No! On my mark!"

"What?"

"Just let me!" I yelled.

"Fine." he shouted. "On your mark!"

I hesitated ... hesitated ... then yelled, "Now!"

Our boat smashed into the pileup and we were thrown into the air, straight over the gates, over the pool, and down toward solid asphalt.

Something grabbed me from behind.

Grover! In midair, he had grabbed Percy by the shirt, and me by the arm, and was trying to pull us out of a crash landing.

"You're too heavy!" Grover said. "We're going down!"

We spiraled toward the ground, Grover doing his best to slow the fall.

We smashed into a photo-board, Grover's head going straight into the hole where tourists would put their faces, pretending to be Noo-Noo the Friendly Whale. Percy and I tumbled to the ground, banged up but alive.

Once we caught our breath, Annabeth and Percy got Grover out of the photo-board and Percy thanked him for saving our lives. I looked back at the Thrill Ride of Love. The water was subsiding. Our boat had been smashed to pieces against the gates.

A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had swiveled so that their cameras were trained straight on us, the spotlights in our faces.

"Show's over!" Percy yelled. "Thank you! Good night!"

The Cupids turned back to their original positions. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool. I wondered if Olympus had gone to a commercial break, or if our ratings had been any good.

I hated being teased. I hated being tricked.

"We need to have a little talk with Ares." I said angrily.


	7. 07

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot.

"Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."

"You knew it was a trap," Percy said.

Ares gave me a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

Percy shoved his shield at him.

"You're a jerk." I said.

Annabeth and Grover caught their breath. Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back.

"See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read only because it was reverseprinted white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

Percy said, "You're kidding."

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."

He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to him. Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuf Oreos.

Percy said, "I don't want your lousy—"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted. "Thanks a lot."

Percy slung the backpack over his shoulder.

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "She's not dead."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept."

"Kept. Why?"

"You need to study war, punk. Hostages. You take somebody to control somebody else."

"Nobody's controlling me."

He laughed. "Oh yeah? See you around, kid."

"You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues."

"We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back. Bye Ariana, I'll see you later."

He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street.

Annabeth said, "That was not smart, Percy."

"I don't care."

"You don't want a god as your enemy. Especially not that god."

"Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but ..."

He pointed toward the diner. At the register, the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck.

"If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry."

We ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big rig, closing the doors behind us. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter.

The trailer was dark inside until Percy uncapped his sword. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. Sitting in a row of filthy metal cages were three of the most pathetic zoo animals I'd ever beheld: a zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing.

Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The zebra and the antelope had each gotten a Styrofoam tray of hamburger meat. The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL!

Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flies buzzing around his pink eyes and his ribs showed through his white fur.

"This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?"

The trucks engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and we were forced to sit down or fall down.

We huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. Annabeth was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but Percy pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving.

Percy found a water jug and refilled their bowls, then used his sword to drag the mismatched food out of their cages. I gave the meat to the lion and the turnips to the zebra and the antelope.

Grover calmed the antelope down, while Annabeth used her knife to cut the balloon off his horn. She wanted to cut the gum out of the zebra's mane, too, but we decided that would be too risky with the truck bumping around. We told Grover to promise the animals we'd help them more in the morning, then we settled in for night.

Grover curled up on a turnip sack; Annabeth opened our bag of Double Stuf Oreos and nibbled on one halfheartedly. Halfway to our destination. It was only June fourteenth. The solstice wasn't until the twenty-first. We could make it in plenty of time.

Annabeth pulled apart an Oreo, handed Percy half. "In the Iris message ... did Luke really say nothing?"

"Luke said you and he go way back. He also said Grover wouldn't fail this time. Nobody would turn into a pine tree."

Grover let out a mournful bray. "I should've told you the truth from the beginning." His voice trembled. "I thought if you knew what a failure I was, you wouldn't want me along."

"You were the satyr who tried to rescue Thalia, the daughter of Zeus."

He nodded glumly. "And the other two half-bloods Thalia befriended, the ones who got safely to camp ..."

"That was you and Luke, wasn't it?"

"Like you said, Percy, a seven-year-old half-blood wouldn't have made it very far alone. Athena guided me toward help. Thalia was twelve. Luke was fourteen. They'd both run away from home, like me. They were happy to take me with them. They were ... amazing monster-fighters, even without training. We traveled north from Virginia without any real plans, fending off monsters for about two weeks before Grover found us."

"I was supposed to escort Thalia to camp," he said, sniffling. "Only Thalia. I had strict orders from Chiron: don't do anything that would slow down the rescue. We knew Hades was after her, see, but I couldn't just leave Luke and Annabeth by themselves. I thought ... I thought I could lead all three of them to safety. It was my fault the Kindly Ones caught up with us. I froze. I got scared on the way back to camp and took some wrong turns. If I'd just been a little quicker ..."

"Stop it," Annabeth said. "No one blames you. Thalia didn't blame you either."

"She sacrificed herself to save us," he said miserably, "Her death was my fault. The Council of Cloven Elders said so."

"Because you wouldn't leave two other half-bloods behind?" Percy said. "That's not fair."

"Percy's right," Annabeth said. "I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you, Grover. Neither would Luke. We don't care what the council says."

Grover kept sniffling in the dark. "It's just my luck. I'm the lamest satyr ever, and I find the two most powerful half-bloods of the century, Thalia and Percy."

"You're not lame," I insisted. "You've got more courage than any satyr I've ever met. Name one other who would dare go to the Underworld. I bet Percy is really glad you're here right now."

"Yeah," Percy said. "It's not luck that you found Thalia and me, Grover. You've got the biggest heart of any satyr ever. You're a natural searcher. That's why you'll be the one who finds Pan."

I heard a deep, satisfied sigh. I waited for Grover to say something, but his breathing only got heavier. When the sound turned to snoring, I realized he'd fallen sleep.

"How does he do that?" Percy marveled.

"I don't know," Annabeth said. "But that was really a nice thing you told him."

"I meant it."

We rode in silence for a few miles, bumping around on the feed sacks. Eventually I had fallen asleep to dream of nothing again.

I woke up.

Grover was shaking Percy's shoulder.

"The truck's stopped," he said. "We think they're coming to check on the animals."

"Hide!" Annabeth hissed.

She put on her magic cap and disappeared. Grover and Percy had to dive behind feed sacks and hope they looked like turnips. I turned myself invisible.

The trailer doors creaked open. Sunlight and heat poured in.

"Man!" one of the truckers said, waving his hand in front of his ugly nose. "I wish I hauled appliances." He climbed inside and poured some water from a jug into the animals' dishes.

"You hot, big boy?" he asked the lion, then splashed the rest of the bucket right in the lion's face.

The lion roared in indignation.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said.

The trucker threw the antelope a squashed-looking Happy Meal bag. He smirked at the zebra. "How ya doin', Stripes? Least we'll be getting rid of you this stop. You like magic shows? You're gonna love this one. They're gonna saw you in half!"

The zebra, wild-eyed with fear, looked straight at Percy.

There was no sound, but as clear as day, I heard it say: Free me, lord. Please.

There was a loud knock, knock, knock on the side of the trailer.

The trucker inside with us yelled, "What do you want, Eddie?"

A voice outside—it must've been Eddie's—shouted back, "Maurice? What'd ya say?"

"What are you banging for?"

Knock, knock, knock.

Outside, Eddie yelled, "What banging?"

Our guy Maurice rolled his eyes and went back outside, cursing at Eddie for being an idiot. A second later, Annabeth appeared next to me. She must've done the banging to get Maurice out of the trailer.

She said, "This transport business can't be legal."

"No kidding," Grover said. He paused, as if listening. "The lion says these guys are animal smugglers!"

That's right, the zebra's voice said in my mind.

"We've got to free them!" Grover said.

I looked to Percy, waiting for him to do something.

The zebra said, Open my cage, lord. Please. I'll be fine after that.

Outside, Eddie and Maurice were still yelling at each other, but I knew they'd be coming inside to torment the animals again any minute. Percy grabbed his sword and slashed the lock off the zebra's cage.

The zebra burst out. It turned to Percy and I and bowed. Thank you, lord.

Grover held up his hands and said something to the zebra in goat talk, like a blessing. Just as Maurice was poking his head back inside to check out the noise, the zebra leaped over him and into the street. There was yelling and screaming and cars honking. We rushed to the doors of the trailer in time to see the zebra galloping down a wide boulevard lined with hotels and casinos and neon signs. We'd just released a zebra in Las Vegas.

Maurice and Eddie ran after it, with a few policemen running after them, shouting, "Hey! You need a permit for that!"

"Now would be a good time to leave," Annabeth said.

"The other animals first," Grover said.

I cut the locks with Amaranthine. Grover raised his hands and spoke the same goat-blessing he'd used for the zebra.

"Good luck," I told the animals.

The antelope and the lion burst out of their cages and went off together into the streets. Some tourists screamed. Most just backed off and took pictures, probably thinking it was some kind of stunt by one of the casinos.

"Will the animals be okay?" Percy asked Grover. "I mean, the desert and all—"

"Don't worry," he said. "I placed a satyr's sanctuary on them."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning they'll reach the wild safely," he said. "They'll find water, food, shade, whatever they need until they find a safe place to live."

"Why can't you place a blessing like that on us?" Percy asked.

"It only works on wild animals."

"So it would only affect Percy," Annabeth reasoned.

"Hey!" he protested.

"Kidding," she said. "Come on. Let's get out of this filthy truck."

We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was a hundred and ten degrees, easy, and we must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too interested in the wild animals to pay us much attention.

We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and the Statue of Liberty.

We must have taken a wrong turn, because we found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning that smelled like flowers—lotus blossom, maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure.

The doorman smiled at us. "Hey, kids. You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?"

This guy was normal. One look at him, and I could see. Besides, I was so relieved to hear somebody who sounded sympathetic that I nodded and said we'd love to come in. Inside, we took one look around, and Grover said, "Whoa."

The whole lobby was a giant game room. And I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine.

"Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guessed he was a bellhop. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key."

Percy stammered, "Um, but..."

"No, no," he said, laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, loom 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your LotusCash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides."

He handed us each a green plastic credit card.

Percy took the card and said, "How much is on here?"

His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when does it run out of cash?"

He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay."

We took the elevator upstairs and checked out our room. It was a suite with four separate bedrooms and a bar stocked with candy, sodas, and chips. A hotline to room service. Fluffy towels and water beds with feather pillows. A big-screen television with satellite and high-speed Internet. The balcony had its own hot tub, and sure enough, there was a skeet-shooting machine and a shotgun, so you could launch clay pigeons right out over the Las Vegas skyline and plug them with your gun. I didn't see how that could be legal, but I thought it was pretty cool. The view over the Strip and the desert was amazing, though I doubted we'd ever find time to look at the view with a room like this.

"Oh, goodness," Annabeth said. "This place is ..."

"Sweet," Grover said. "Absolutely sweet."

"Wonderful," I mumbled.

There were clothes in the closet, and they fit me. I smiled and grabbed an outfit.

I took a shower, which felt awesome after a week of grimy travel. I , ate a bag of chips, drank some water, and came out feeling better than I had in a long time.

I came out of the bedroom and found that Annabeth, Grover, and Percy had also showered and changed clothes. Grover was eating potato chips to his heart's content, while Annabeth cranked up the National Geographic Channel.

"All those stations," Percy told her, "and you turn on National Geographic. Are you insane?"

"It's interesting."

"I feel good," Grover said. "I love this place."

Without his even realizing it, the wings sprouted out of his shoes and lifted him a foot off the ground, then back down again.

"So what now?" Annabeth asked. "Sleep?"

Grover and Percy looked at each other and grinned. They both held up their green plastic LotusCash cards.

"Play time," Percy said.

I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun and I came from Olympus. I mean, it was fun at times, but compared to this place it had barely anything fun.

I danced on the dance floor and talked to some interesting looking people. I saw Grover a few times, going from game to game. He really liked the reverse hunter thing—where the deer go out and shoot the rednecks. I saw Annabeth playing trivia games and other brainiac stuff. They had this huge 3-D sim game where you build your own city, and you could actually see the holographic buildings rise on the display board. I didn't think much of it, but Annabeth loved it.

I continued to dance and having the time of my life. I thought nothing of anything and enjoyed my time there.

Percy walked up to me and shook me. "Ariana."

"What is it Percy?" I asked and smiled at him.

"We have to go ..." he tried to pull me away.

"But I'm having so much fun!" I whined and pulled away from him. "Come on, just dance with me."

I pulled him to me as a slow song came on.

We slow danced for a bit, but Percy eventually shook his head and pulled away.

"Come on, Ariana, we need to go."

"Stop worrying," I smiled and looked at him in the eyes. I pulled him towards me and wrapped my arms around his neck again and pulled his lips closer to mine.

Our lips touched and we kissed.

Percy pulled away and grabbed my hand.

"Come on Ariana," he pulled me towards Annabeth who was still playing her game and wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Come on," Percy told her. "We've got to get out of here."

No response.

He shook her. "Annabeth?"

She looked up, annoyed. "What?"

"We need to leave."

"Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers—"

"This place is a trap."

She didn't respond until he shook her again. "What?"

"Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!"

"Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes."

"Annabeth, there are people here from 1977. Kids who have never aged. You check in, and you stay forever."

"So?" she asked. "Can you imagine a better place?"

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the game.

"Hey!" She screamed and hit him, but nobody else even bothered looking at us. They were too busy.

He said, "Spiders. Large, hairy spiders."

That jarred her. Her vision cleared. "Oh my gods," she said. "How long have we—"

"I don't know, but we've got to find Grover."

They went searching, dragging me along, and found him still playing Virtual Deer Hunter.

"Grover!" they both shouted.

He said, "Die, human! Die, silly polluting nasty person!"

"Grover!"

He turned the plastic gun on Percy and started clicking, as if he were just another image from the screen. Together Annabeth and Percy took Grover by the arms and dragged him away. His flying shoes sprang to life and started tugging his legs in the other direction as he shouted, "No! I just got to a new level! No!"

The Lotus bellhop hurried up to us. "Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?"

"We're leaving," Percy told him.

"Such a shame," he said, and I got the feeling that he really meant it, that we'd be breaking his heart if we went. "We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members."

He held out the cards, and I wanted one. Grover and I reached for the cards, but Annabeth yanked back our arms and said, "No, thanks."

We walked toward the door, and as we did, the smell of the food and the sounds of the games seemed to get more and more inviting.

Then we burst through the doors of the Lotus Casino and ran down the sidewalk. It felt like afternoon, about the same time of day we'd gone into the casino, but something was wrong. The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert.

Eventually during running I had snapped out of it.

Percy ran to the nearest newspaper stand and read the year first. Thank the gods, it was the same year it had been when we went in. Then I noticed the date: June twentieth.

We had been in the Lotus Casino for five days. We had only one day left until the summer solstice. One day to complete our quest.


	8. 08

Annabeth loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front."

"You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked.

He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first."

Annabeth handed him her green LotusCash card. He looked at it skeptically.

"Swipe it," Annabeth invited.

He did.

His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign. The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?"

"The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter. I could tell she liked the "Your Highness" thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety five the whole way through the Mojave Desert. On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. Percy told Annabeth, Grover, and me about his latest dream.

"The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades."

"Maybe ..." Percy said.

"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described."

Percy shook his head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit ... I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."

Annabeth's eyes widened.

"What?" Percy asked.

"Oh ... nothing. I was just—No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong—"

"Like what?"

"I—I don't know," she said. "But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt."

"But if I'd already retrieved the bolt," Percy said, "why would I be traveling to the Underworld?"

"To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your mom back."

Percy whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat."

"Why, thank you."

"But the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," Percy said. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?"

Grover shook his head, clearly mystified.

I was thinking over everything he told us.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" Percy asked Annabeth. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?"

"Percy ... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades ... No. It has to be Hades."

Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES.

"The answer is in the Underworld," Annabeth assured Percy. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing."

The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead. Every time the brakes hissed on an eighteen-wheeler.

At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave.

Grover, Annabeth, Percy, and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" Annabeth asked.

The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it was since I was at the beach.

Percy stepped into the surf.

"Percy?" I said. "What are you doing?"

He kept walking, up to his waist, then his chest.

Annabeth called after him, "You know how polluted that water is? There're all kinds of toxic—"

That's when his head went under.

We waited for a while before Percy kicked upward toward the shore.

When he reached the beach, his clothes dried instantly. He told Grover, Annabeth, and I what had happened, and showed us the pearls.

Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price."

"They were free."

"No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait."

On that happy thought, we turned our backs on the sea.

With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into West Hollywood. Percy showed the driver the Underworld address slip he'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told Percy. "You a child actor or something?"

"Uh ... I'm a stunt double ... for a lot of child actors."

"Oh! That explains it."

We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop.

We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book.

Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars.

Percy froze in front of an appliance-store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody who looked very familiar to him. He was talking to a news person. She was interviewing him in an apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand.

A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife ... my Camaro ... I—I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

"There you have it, America." the news person turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver."

The screen cut to a grainy shot of Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and me standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" she asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"C'mon," Grover told Percy.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play.

We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging.

As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

Percy stopped.

Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all— white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces.

Percy uncapped his sword and I reached for Kairos.

When the sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at Percy with a switchblade.

Percy swung. The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. "What the ..."

"Run!" Percy screamed at us.

We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner.

"There!" Annabeth shouted.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover said.

It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified.

We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside.

"I think we lost them," Grover panted.

A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?"

We all jumped. Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.

His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck—I couldn't even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

"Sorry to barge in," Percy told him. "We were just, um, browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on Percy's shoulder and steered him deeper into the showroom. There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway."

"Um," Percy said, "I don't think ..."

"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool."

"Really?" I smiled and jumped on another bed and sighed.

"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."

"Almost what?" I asked.

He looked at Annabeth.

"Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

Annabeth said, "But what—"

He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter. When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her.

"Hey!" she protested.

Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!" Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress. Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down. I was shocked and just continued to lay and ropes lashed me down too.

"N-not c-c-cool!" Grover yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!"

The giant looked at me, then turned toward Percy and grinned. "Almost, darn it."

Percy tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of his neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec."

"Let my friends go."

"Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first."

"What do you mean?"

"All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit."

Annabeth, Grover, and I kept struggling.

"Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!"

A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover, Annabeth, and I's ankles, then around our armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling us from both ends.

"Don't worry," Crusty told Percy, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?"

"Percy!" Grover yelled.

My mind was racing.

"Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" Percy asked.

"Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted.

"The Stretcher," Percy said.

I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with excess hospitality on his way to Athens.

"Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce Procrustes? Bad for business. Now 'Crusty,' anybody can say that."

"You're right. It's got a good ring to it."

His eyes lit up. "You think so?"

"Oh, absolutely," Percy said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

He grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on his neck. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?"

"Not too many."

"That's right!"

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Don't mind her," Percy told Procrustes. "She's impossible."

The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting."

"What do you do if they're longer than six feet?"

"Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix." He let go of Percy's neck, but he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end."

"Ah," Percy said. "Sensible."

"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!"

The ropes were really stretching us now. Annabeth was turning pale. Grover made gurgling sounds, like a strangled goose. My mind was racing as I looked down at the ropes in pain.

"So, Crusty ..." Percy said. Percy glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?"

"Absolutely. Try it out."

"Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?"

"Guaranteed."

"No way."

"Way."

"Show me."

He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress. "No waves. See?"

Percy snapped his fingers. "Ergo."

Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Center him just right," Percy said.

The ropes readjusted themselves at hid command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.

"No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo."

Percy uncapped his sword. "A few simple adjustments ..."

"You drive a hard bargain," he told him. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models.'"

"I think I'll start with the top." Percy raised his sword.

"No money down! No interest for six months!"

Percy swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers. Percy cut the ropes on the other beds. Annabeth and Grover got to their feet, groaning and wincing and cursing him a lot. I got up and thanked Percy.

"You look taller," Percy said.

"Very funny," Annabeth said. "Be faster next time."

"Come on," Percy told us.

"Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death."

"Then you're ready for the Underworld," Percy said. "It's only a block from here."


	9. 09

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.

It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

Percy turned to us. "Okay. You remember the plan."

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."

Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Don't think negative."

"Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

"Let's just go guys," I rolled my eyes.

Annabeth put her hand on Percy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."

She gave Grover a nudge.

"Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."

"Yeah!" I smiled.

"Let's whup some Underworld butt." Percy said.

We walked inside the DOA lobby.

Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him.

He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

"Your name is Chiron?" Percy asked.

He leaned across the desk. I couldn't see anything in his glasses except my own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a pythons, right before it eats you.

"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent—British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no."

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir," Percy said.

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon."

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon," Percy said.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

Percy looked at me.

"We want to go the Underworld," I said.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" Annabeth asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'"

He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"

Percy nudged Grover.

"Oh," he said. "Um ... drowned ... in the bathtub."

"All four of you?" Charon asked.

We nodded. "Big bathtub." Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children ... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Percy set three golden drachmas on the counter.

"Well, now ..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in ..."

His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.

We were so close.

Then Charon looked at Percy. "Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," he said. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld," I insisted.

Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat. Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Only Ariana may come through, the rest of you should leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."

"But Charon I—"

He started to go for the coins, but Percy snatched them back.

"No service, no tip." he said.

Charon growled again—a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

"It's a shame, too," I sighed. "We had more to offer."

Percy held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash. He took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through his fingers.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought? Eh ... just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

"A lot," Percy said. "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better," Percy agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay."

With each word, he stacked another gold coin on the counter.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

He stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you four and be off."

He stood, scooped up our money, and said, "Come along."

We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at our clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things I couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."

He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed three spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and we started to descend.

"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing," Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

"Oh," she said. "That's ... fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

"We'll get out alive," Percy said.

"Ha."

I got a sudden dizzy feeling. We weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around me started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying. Charon's creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets—like Ares's eyes, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night and death and despair.

He saw Percy looking, and said, "Well?"

"Nothing,"

The floor kept swaying.

Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."

The elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. We were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling us across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things—plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

"The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so ..."

"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across—hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above us, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison. I had been here before.

I grabbed hold of Percy's hand. Percy's face turned red.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones—the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you."

The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than I was, shuffling silently along in his gray robe.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise."

He counted our golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

We followed the spirits up a well-worn path.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with security cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were tollbooths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.

The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, but I couldn't see where it was coming from. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"What do you figure?" Percy asked me.

"The fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," I said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

"Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare—people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward—the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel Fields."

"And do what?"

Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."

"Harsh," Percy said.

"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."

A couple of black-robbed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk. The face of the dead man looked vaguely familiar.

"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.

"Oh, yeah."

Percy said, "What're they doing to him?"

"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fur—the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."

"But if he's a preacher," Percy said, "and he believes in a different hell... ."

Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. You're very stubborn—er, persistent, that way."

We got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it shook the ground at my feet.

Then, about fifty feet in front of us, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.

I saw Cerberus, the purebred Rottweiler, except of course that he was twice the size of a woolly mammoth, mostly invisible, and had three heads.

"He's a Rottweiler." Percy said.

The dead walked right up to him—no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better," Percy muttered. "Why is that?"

"I think ..." Annabeth moistened her lips. "I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead."

The dog's middle head craned toward us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living," I said.

"But that's okay," Grover said, trembling. "Because we have a plan."

"Right," Annabeth said. I'd never heard her voice sound quite so small. "A plan."

We moved toward the monster. The middle head snarled at us, then barked really loudly.

"Can you understand it?" Percy asked Grover.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I can understand it."

"What's it saying?"

"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly."

Percy took the big stick out of his backpack—a bedpost he'd broken off Crusty's Safari Deluxe floor model. He held it up.

"Hey, Big Fella," Percy called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."

"GROWWWLLLL!"

"Good boy," he said weakly.

Percy waved the stick. The dog's middle head followed the movement. The other two heads trained their eyes on Percy, completely ignoring the spirits. He had Cerberus's undivided attention.

"Fetch!" Percy threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. I heard it go ker-sploosh in the River Styx.

Cerberus glared at him, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold. So much for the plan. Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his three throats.

"Um," Grover said. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah?"

"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that... well ... he's hungry."

"I'm not going to let you guys get eaten," I said. "He knows me."

"Five seconds," Grover said. "Do we run now?"

I grabbed a red ball from my backpack the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. I raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.

I shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.

"Sit!" I called again.

Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissipated, like the air let out of tires.

I said, "Good boy!"

I threw Cerberus the ball.

He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it." I ordered.

Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at me. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at my feet.

"Good boy." I picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it.

I turned toward Percy, Grover, and Annabeth. "Go now. EZ DEATH line—it's faster."

Percy said, "But—"

"Now." I ordered.

Grover, Percy, and Annabeth inched forward warily.

Cerberus started to growl.

"Stay!" I ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!"

Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.

"What about you?" Percy asked as they passed me.

"I know what I'm doing, Percy," I muttered.

Grover, Percy, and Annabeth walked between the monster's legs.

I said, "Good dog!"

I held up the tattered red ball, if I rewarded Cerberus, there'd be nothing left for another trick.

I threw the ball anyway. The monster's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.

While the monster was distracted, I walked briskly under its belly and joined them at the metal detector.

"How did you do that?" Percy asked me.

"I've seen Cerberus before."

"Never mind that," Grover said, tugging at Percy's shirt. "Come on!"

We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths. I stopped.

I turned to face the dog, which had done an one-eighty to look at us. Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.

"Good boy," I said, smiling at the dog.

"I'll bring you another ball soon," I promised. "Would you like that?"

The monster whimpered.

"Good dog. I'll come visit you soon. I—I promise." I turned to Annabeth, Grover, and Percy. "Let's go."

Grover and Percy pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off flashing red lights.  
"Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"

Cerberus started to bark.

We burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.

A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.

Grover murmured, "Well, Percy, what have we learned today?"

"That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?"

"No," Grover told him. "We've learned that your plans really, really bite!"

I started to get sad as I heard Cerberus whimpering, longing for me to come back.


	10. 10

The black grass of Asphodel had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees or poplars—grew in clumps here and there.

The cavern ceiling was so high above us it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. Dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass.

Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and I tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. I couldn't help looking for familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, but the dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.

We crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:

 

JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION

Welcome, Newly Deceased!

Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines.

To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path toward the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas. Even from far away, I could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. I could just make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top. And I saw worse tortures, too—things I don't want to describe.

The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down toward a small valley surrounded by walls—a gated community, which seemed to be the only happy part of the Underworld. Beyond the security gate were neighborhoods of beautiful houses from every time period in history, Roman villas and medieval castles and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors. I could hear laughter and smell barbecue cooking.

Elysium.

In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake, with three small islands like a vacation resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three times, and three times achieved Elysium.

"That's the place for heroes." Annabeth said.

We left the judgment pavilion and moved deeper into the Asphodel Fields. It got darker. The colors faded from our clothes. The crowds of chattering spirits began to thin.

After a few miles of walking, we began to hear a familiar screech in the distance. Looming on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian. Above the parapets swirled three dark batlike creatures: the Furies. I got the feeling they were waiting for us.

"I suppose it's too late to turn back," Grover said wistfully.

"We'll be okay," I said.

"Maybe we should search some of the other places first," Grover suggested. "Like, Elysium, for instance ..."

"Come on, goat boy." Annabeth grabbed his arm.

Grover yelped. His sneakers sprouted wings and his legs shot forward, pulling him away from Annabeth. He landed flat on his back in the grass.

"Grover," Annabeth chided. "Stop messing around."

"But I didn't—"

He yelped again. His shoes were flapping like crazy now. They levitated off the ground and started dragging him away from us.

"Maia!" he yelled, but the magic word seemed to have no effect. "Maia, already! Nine-oneone! Help!"

I made a grab for Grover's hand, but too late. He was picking up speed, skidding downhill like a bobsled.

We ran after him.

Annabeth shouted, "Untie the shoes!"

It was a smart idea, but I guess it's not so easy when your shoes are pulling you along feetfirst at full speed. Grover tried to sit up, but he couldn't get close to the laces.

We kept after him, trying to keep him in sight as he ripped between the legs of spirits who chattered at him in annoyance. I was sure Grover was going to barrel straight through the gates of Hades's palace, but his shoes veered sharply to the right and dragged him in the opposite direction.

The slope got steeper. Grover picked up speed. Annabeth, Percy, and I had to sprint to keep up. The cavern walls narrowed on either side, and I realized we'd entered some kind of side tunnel. No black grass or trees now, just rock underfoot, and the dim light of the stalactites above.

"Grover!" I yelled, my voice echoing. "Hold on to something!"

"What?" he yelled back.

He was grabbing at gravel, but there was nothing big enough to slow him down.

The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on my arms bristled. It smelled evil down here. It made me think of things I shouldn't even know about—blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of a murderer.

The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm.

Grover was sliding straight toward the edge.

"Come on, Percy!" Annabeth yelled.

I turned to see him just standing there.

"But that's—"

"I know!" she shouted. "The place you described in your dream! But Grover's going to fall if we don't catch him."

He was yelling, clawing at the ground, but the winged shoes kept dragging him toward the pit, and it didn't look like we could possibly get to him in time.

What saved him were his hooves.

The flying sneakers had always been a loose fit on him, and finally Grover hit a big rock and the left shoe came flying off. It sped into the darkness, down into the chasm. The right shoe kept tugging him along, but not as fast. Grover was able to slow himself down by grabbing on to the big rock and using it like an anchor.

He was ten feet from the edge of the pit when we caught him and hauled him back up the slope. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, circled around us angrily and kicked our heads in protest before flying off into the chasm to join its twin.

Percy, Grover, and Annabeth all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel.

Grover was scratched up pretty bad. His hands were bleeding. His eyes had gone slit-pupiled, goat style, the way they did whenever he was terrified.

"I don't know how ..." he panted. "I didn't..."

"Wait," Percy said. "Listen."

I heard something—a deep whisper in the darkness.

Another few seconds, and Annabeth said, "Percy, this place—"

"Shh." Percy stood.

The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below us. Coming from the pit.

Grover sat up. "Wh—what's that noise?"

Annabeth heard it too, now. I could see it in her eyes.

"Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus." I said.

Percy uncapped his sword.

The bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant.

I could almost make out words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek. As if ...

"Magic," I said.

"We have to get out of here," Annabeth said.

Together, Percy, Annabeth, and I dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel. The voice got louder and angrier behind us, and we broke into a run.

Not a moment too soon.

A cold blast of wind pulled at our backs, as if the entire pit were inhaling. For a terrifying moment, I lost ground, my feet slipping in the gravel. If we'd been any closer to the edge, we would've been sucked in.

We kept struggling forward, and finally reached the top of the tunnel, where the cavern widened out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died. A wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. Something was not happy we'd gotten away.

"What was that?" Grover panted, when we'd collapsed in the relative safety of a black poplar grove. "One of Hades's pets?"

"Let's keep going." Percy said. "Can you walk?"

He swallowed. "Yeah, sure. I never liked those shoes, anyway."

We headed toward the palace of Hades.

The Furies circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open.

The engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times—an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls—but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago.

Inside the courtyard were multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants that grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as my fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues— petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs—all smiling grotesquely.

In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark.

"The garden of Persephone," I said. "Keep walking."

The tart smell of those pomegranates was almost overwhelming. One bite of Underworld food, and we would never be able to leave. I pulled Grover away to keep him from picking a big juicy one.

We walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered us, but their hollow eye sockets followed us as we walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end.

Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at us, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests.

"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."

"Well, guys," Percy said. "I suppose we should ... knock?"

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess that means entrez-vous," Annabeth said.

Hades was occupying his throne. He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.

"You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he said in an oily voice. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

"Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests." Percy said.

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out.

"Only two requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

I swallowed. This was going about as well as I'd feared.

"Hades ... please don't ..." I pleaded.

I glanced at the empty, smaller thrones next to Hades'. One was shaped like a black flower, gilded with gold. I wished Persephone were here.

The other one was mine for when I came to visit. It was like Persephone's but a bit smaller.

"Ariana ... you're here? With them?"

I nodded.

Annabeth cleared her throat.

"Lord Hades," Percy said. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be ... bad."

"Really bad," Grover added helpfully.

"Return Zeus's master bolt to me," Percy said. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."

Hades's eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?"

Percy looked back at us.

"Um ... Uncle," Percy said. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?"

The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.

Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?"

"You are the Lord of the Dead," Percy said. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?"

"A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?"

"Well..."

"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open? More security ghouls," he moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses!"

"Charon wants a pay raise," Percy blurted.

"Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. "He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war."

"But you took Zeus's master bolt."

"Lies!" More rumbling. Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goalpost. "Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan."

"His plan?"

"You were the thief on the winter solstice," he said. "Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus, You took the master bolt and my helm. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open. You will be exposed as Poseidon's thief, and I will have my helm back!"

"But ..." Annabeth spoke. "Lord Hades, your helm of darkness is missing, too?"

"Do not play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr have been helping this hero and brought my daughter into this—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?"

"No!" Percy said. "Poseidon didn't—I didn't—"

"I have said nothing of the helm's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you."

"You didn't try to stop us? But—"

"Return my helm now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "That is my counterproposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson—your skeleton will lead my army out of Hades."

The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready.

"You're as bad as Zeus," Percy said. "You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after me?"

"Of course," Hades said.

"And the other monsters?"

Hades curled his lip. "I had nothing to do with them. I wanted no quick death for you—I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?"

"Easily?"

"Return my property!"

"But I don't have your helm. I came for the master bolt."

"Which you already possess!" Hades shouted. "You came here with it, little fool, thinking you could you threaten me!"

"But I didn't!"

"Open your pack, then."

A horrible feeling struck me. I knew it was in there now. Percy slung his backpack off his shoulder and unzipped it. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.

"Percy," Annabeth said. "How—"

"I—I don't know. I don't understand."

"You heroes are always the same," Hades said. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now ... my helm. Where is it?"

I'd then realized Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades had been set at each other's throats by someone else. The master bolt had been in the backpack, and Percy had gotten the backpack from ...

"Lord Hades, wait," Percy said. "This is all a mistake."

"A mistake?" Hades roared.

The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there was a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne.

"There is no mistake," Hades said. "I know why you have come—I know the real reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for her."

Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps, and there was Percy's mother, frozen in a shower of gold.

Percy reached out to touch her.

"Yes," Hades said with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."

"Ah, the pearls," Hades said. "Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson."

Percy brought out the pearls.

"Only three," Hades said. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."

I looked at Annabeth, Grover, and Percy. Their faces were grim.

"We were tricked," Percy told us. "Set up."

"Yes, but why?" Annabeth asked. "And the voice in the pit—"

"I don't know yet," Percy said. "But I intend to ask."

"Decide, boy!" Hades yelled.

"Percy." Grover put his hand on my shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt,"

"I know that."

"I can stay here and leave whenever I like. I'll meet you guys wherever you guys go." I said.

"Leave me here," Grover said. "Use the third pearl on your mom."

"No!"

"I'm a satyr," Grover said. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way."

"No." Annabeth drew her bronze knife. "You two go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting."

"No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind."

"Think again, goat boy," Annabeth said.

"Stop it, both of you!"

"I know what to do," Percy said. "Take these."

Percy handed them each a pearl.

Annabeth said, "But, Percy ..."

Percy turned and faced his mother.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I'll be back. I'll find a way."

The smug look on Hades's face faded. He said, "Godling ... ?"

"I'll find your helm, Uncle," Percy told him. "I'll return it. Remember about Charon's pay raise."

"Do not defy me—"

"And it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while. He likes red rubber balls."

"Percy Jackson, you will not—"

Percy shouted, "Now, guys!"

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover smashed the pearls at their feet. I closed my eyes and thought of the sea. When I opened my eyes again I was in the sea with Percy, Annabeth, and Grover.

In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades's fault. He was probably sending an army of the dead after Percy right now.


	11. 11

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how four kids had gotten out into the middle of the bay. There was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls.

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people.

Our clothes were sopping wet, even mine. When the Coast Guard boat had appeared, I'd silently prayed they wouldn't pick us out of the water and find Percy and I perfectly dry, which might've raised some eyebrows. So I'd willed myself to get soaked. Percy was also barefoot, because he'd given his shoes to Grover. Better the Coast Guard wonder why one of us was barefoot than wonder why one of us had hooves.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise.

"I don't believe it," Annabeth said. "We went all that way—"

"It was a trick," Percy said. "A strategy worthy of Athena."

"Hey," she warned.

"You get it, don't you?"

She dropped her eyes, her anger fading. "Yeah. I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody—"

"Percy..." I said. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry..."

"The prophecy was right," Percy said. "'You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war among the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades's helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's kid. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it."

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?"

I stopped in my tracks, looking down the beach.

"Gee, let me think." Percy said.

There Ares was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," Percy said. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power—that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice."

"Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this..."

From his pocket he took out a ski cap—the kind bank robbers wear—and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," Grover gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"But they're your family!" Annabeth protested.

"Yeah, you want me to get hurt?" I said, a bit disappointed.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," Percy said. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

"Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like that sword you got, kid. It always returns to your pocket, right? Anyway," Aries continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way—no loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" Percy said. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. "Why didn't I... yeah... with that kind of firepower..."

He held the trance for one second... two seconds...

I exchanged a look with Percy.

"I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught redhanded, holding the thing."

"You're lying," I said. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" Smoke drifted up from his sunglasses, as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," I said. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

"Who said anything about dreams?" Percy asked.

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover it with a smirk. "Let's get back to the problem at hand, kid. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hardheaded idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

He snapped his fingers. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than the one whose head hung above the door of cabin seven at Camp HalfBlood. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at Percy with beady eyes as it lowered its razor-sharp tusks and waited for the command to kill.

Percy stepped into the surf. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

He laughed, but I heard a little edge to his laughter... an uneasiness. "You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from the Chimera. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes."

"Scared?"

"In your adolescent dreams." But his sunglasses were starting to melt from the heat of his eyes. "No direct involvement. Sorry, kid. You're not at my level."

Annabeth said, "Percy, run!"

As the boar rushed Percy, he uncapped his pen and sidestepped. His sword appeared in his hands. He slashed upward. The boar's severed right tusk fell at his feet, while the disoriented animal charged into the sea.

Percy shouted, "Wave!"

Immediately, a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sea.

Percy turned back to Ares. "Are you going to fight me now?" he asked. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet?"

Ares's face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into—"

"A cockroach," Percy said. "Or a tapeworm. Yeah, I'm sure. That'd save you from getting your godly hide whipped, wouldn't it?"

Flames danced along the top of his glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot."

"If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and you have to go away."

Ares sneered.

He swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?"

Percy showed him his sword.

"That's cool, dead boy," he said. "Classic it is." The baseball bat changed into a huge, twohanded sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

"Percy," I said. "Don't do this. He's a god."

"He's a coward," Percy told me.

I swallowed. "Wear this, at least. For luck."

I took off my necklace, with my many years' worth of camp beads with a charm from who I thought was my mom.

"Thanks." Percy said.

"Here take this too." Annabeth said and gave him her necklace with five years' of beads and a ring from her dad.

Percy put both of the necklaces in his pocket.

"And take this," Grover said. He handed Percy a flattened tin can that he'd probably been saving in his pocket for a thousand miles. "The satyrs stand behind you."

"Grover... I don't know what to say."

He patted Percy on the shoulder. Percy stuffed the tin can in his back pocket.

"You all done saying good-bye?" Ares came toward Percy, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

Percy kept his feet in the surf, backing into the water up to his ankles.

He cleaved downward at Percy's head, but he wasn't there.

The water seemed to push Percy into the air and he catapulted over him, slashing as he came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad."

He slashed again and Percy was forced to jump onto dry land. He tried to sidestep, to get back to the water but Ares seemed to know. He outmaneuvered him, pressing hard. Percy kept backing away from the surf. Ares's sword had a reach several feet longer than Percy's sword.

Percy stepped inside with a thrust, but Ares was waiting for that. He knocked his blade out of his hands and kicked Percy in the chest. He went airborne—twenty, maybe thirty feet. He landed in a small sand dune.

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "Cops!"

I turned and saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

A gruff cop voice: "Looks like that kid on TV... what the heck..."

"That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup."

Percy rolled to one side as Ares's blade slashed the sand. He ran for his sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares's face, only to find his blade deflected again. Percy stepped back toward the surf, forcing him to follow.

"Admit it, kid," Ares said. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

I saw a second cop car pulling up, siren wailing. Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, I thought I saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from Hades to watch the battle. I heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above.

More sirens.

Percy stepped farther into the water, but Ares was fast. The tip of his blade ripped his sleeve and grazed his forearm.

A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns. Set them on the ground. Now!"

Ares turned to glare at the spectators. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols out.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Be gone.'"

He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming.

Ares roared with laughter. "Now, little hero. Let's add you to the barbecue."

He slashed. Percy deflected his blade. Percy got close enough to strike, tried to fake him out with a feint, but his blow was knocked aside. The waves were hitting him in the back now. Ares was up to his thighs, wading in after him.

Ares came toward, grinning confidently. Percy lowered his blade. Ares raised his sword. Percy released the tide and jumped, rocketing straight over Ares on a wave.

A six-foot wall of water smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed. Percy landed behind him with a splash and feinted toward his head, as he'd done before. He turned in time to raise his sword, but this time he was disoriented, he didn't anticipate the trick. Percy changed direction, lunged to the side, and stabbed his sword straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heel.

The roar that followed made Hades's earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide.

Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boot. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded.

He limped toward Percy.

Something stopped him.

It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing. The darkness lifted. Ares looked stunned. Police cars were burning behind us. The crowd of spectators had fled. Annabeth and Grover in shock, watching the water flood back around Ares's feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipating in the tide.

Ares lowered his sword. "You have made an enemy, godling," he told Percy. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware."

His body began to glow.

"Percy!" I shouted. "Don't watch!"

The light died and Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades's bronze helm of darkness. Percy picked it up and walked toward us.

But before he got there, I heard the flapping of leathery wings. Three evil-looking grandmothers with lace hats and fiery whips drifted down from the sky and landed in front of Percy.

The middle Fury stepped forward.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So... it truly was not you?"

Percy tossed her the helmet, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades," he said. "Tell him the truth. Tell him to call off the war."

She hesitated, then ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Percy Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again..."

She cackled. Then she and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky, and disappeared.

Percy joined us.

"Percy..." Grover said. "That was so incredibly..."

"Terrifying," said Annabeth.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

"You did great!" I smiled.

"Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" Percy asked.

We all nodded uneasily.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said.

But I wasn't so sure. Something had stopped Ares from killing Percy, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies.

I looked at Percy, and an understanding passed between us. I knew now what was in that pit, what had spoken from the entrance of Tartarus.

Percy reclaimed his backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still there.

"We have to get back to New York," Percy said. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," Annabeth said, "unless we—"

"Fly," Percy agreed.

"Fly, like, in an airplane, which you were warned never to do lest Zeus strike you out of the sky, and carrying a weapon that has more destructive power than a nuclear bomb?"

"Yeah," Percy said. "Pretty much exactly like that. Come on."


	12. 12

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted me and three other adolescents in New York and brought us across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.

Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterward, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus—"Why didn't I remember him before?"). The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his three friends were safely in police custody.

The reporters fed us this whole story. We just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras.

"All I want," Percy said, choking back his tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew... somehow... we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number." The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for three tickets on the next plane to New York.

Takeoff was a nightmare for Percy. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster to Percy. He didn't unclench his hands from the armrests until we touched down safely at La Guardia. The local press was waiting for us outside security, but we managed to evade them thanks to Annabeth, who lured them away in her invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!" then rejoined us at baggage claim.

We split up at the taxi stand. Percy told Annabeth and Grover to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. They protested, and it was hard to let them go after all we'd been through.

Percy and I hopped in a taxi and headed into Manhattan.

Thirty minutes later, we walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building.

Percy went up to the guard at the front desk and said, "Six hundredth floor."

He was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. The guard took a while to look up. "No such floor, kiddo."

"I need an audience with Zeus."

He gave him a vacant smile. "Sorry?"

"You heard me."

"No appointment, no audience, kiddo. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."

I walked to stand next to Percy and smiled at the guard.

"Oh, Lady Ariana..." The guard's eyes widened and he scrambled out of his seat, fumbled around his desk for a key card, then handed it to Percy. "Insert this in the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."

He did as he told him to. As soon as the elevator doors closed, he slipped the key into the slot. The card disappeared and a new button appeared on the console, a red one that said 600.

He pressed it and waited, and waited.

Muzak played. "Raindrops keep falling on my head..."

Finally, ding. The doors slid open. We stepped out of the elevator and in front of us was one of my homes.

We were standing on a narrow stone walkway in the middle of the air. Below me was Manhattan, from the height of an airplane. In front of me, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky. From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces—a city of mansions— all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rosebushes. There was an openair market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other.

We passed some wood nymphs, hawkers in the market, satyrs, and naiads who all bowed to me while the minor gods and goddesses looked at me while whispering. Nobody seemed worried about an impending civil war. In fact, everybody seemed in a festive mood.

We climbed the main road, toward the big palace at the peak. It was a reverse copy of the palace in the Underworld.

There, everything had been black and bronze. Here, everything glittered white and silver.

Steps led up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.

Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations.

Thirteen thrones were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. The thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. We came towards them and I quickly stood next to my fathers.

The gods were in giant human form, as Hades had been. Zeus, the Lord of the Gods, wore a dark blue pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled gray and black like a storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy gray.

The god sitting next to him was his brother. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman's. His hair was black, like Percy's. His face had a brooding look. But his eyes, seagreen like Percy's, were surrounded by sun-crinkles from smiling.

His throne was a deep-sea fisherman's chair. It was the simple swiveling kind, with a black leather seat and a built-in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.

The gods weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air, as if they'd just finished an argument.

Percy approached the fisherman's throne and knelt at his feet. "Father."

Zeus spoke. "Should you not address the master of this house first, boy?"

He kept my head down, and waited.

"Peace, brother," Poseidon finally said. "The boy defers to his father. This is only right."

"You still claim him then?" Zeus asked, menacingly. "You claim this child whom you sired against our sacred oath?"

"I have admitted my wrongdoing," Poseidon said. "Now I would hear him speak."

"I have spared him once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain ... pah! I should have blasted him out of the sky for his impudence."

"And risk destroying your own master bolt? Putting Ariana in danger?" Poseidon asked calmly. "Let us hear him out, brother."

Zeus grumbled some more. "I shall listen," he decided. "Then I shall make up my mind whether or not to cast this boy down from Olympus."

"Perseus," Poseidon said. "Look at me."

He did.

"Address Lord Zeus, boy," Poseidon told me. "Tell him your story."

So he told Zeus everything, just as it had happened. Percy took out the metal cylinder, which began sparking in the Sky God's presence, and laid it at his feet.

There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire. Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a twenty-foot javelin of arcing, hissing energy.

"I sense the boy tells the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing... it is most unlike him."

"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon said. "It runs in the family."

I nodded and rolled my eyes.

"Lord?" Percy asked.

They both said, "Yes?"

"Ares didn't act alone. Someone else—something else— came up with the idea."

Percy described his dreams, and the feeling he'd had on the beach, that momentary breath of evil that had seemed to stop the world, and made Ares back off from killing him.

"In the dreams," Percy said, "the voice told me to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he'd been having dreams, too. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start a war."

"You are accusing Hades, after all?" Zeus asked.

"No," he said. "I mean, Lord Zeus, I've been in the presence of Hades. This feeling on the beach was different. It was the same thing I felt when I got close to that pit. That was the entrance to Tartarus, wasn't it? Something powerful and evil is stirring down there... something even older than the gods."

Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. I knew they were talking about their father.

Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus held up his hand angrily. "We will speak of this no more," Zeus said. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."

He rose and looked at him. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

"I had help, sir," Percy said. "Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase, and your daug—"

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Perseus Jackson. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."

"Um... thank you, sir."

"Do not presume to fly again. Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise you shall taste this bolt. And it shall be your last sensation."

Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone.

"I'll see you at camp, Percy." I said and ran up to him and hugged him. I then turned to my father Poseidon and hugged him. I closed my eyes and imagined Camp Half-Blood.


	13. 13

Annabeth and Percy were the first heroes to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke, so of course everybody treated them as if they'd won some reality-TV contest. According to camp tradition, they wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in their honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where they got to burn the burial shrouds their cabins had made for them in their absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls.

Being the son of Poseidon, Percy didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make his shroud. They'd taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X'ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

As Apollo's cabin led the sing-along and passed out s'mores, Percy was surrounded by my old Hermes cabinmates, Annabeth's friends from Athena, and Grover's satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover's performance on the quest "Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past."

Even Dionysus's welcome-home speech wasn't very good, but I would never tell him that. "Yes, yes, so the little brat didn't get himself killed and now he'll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday..."

On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles.

As Annabeth, Percy, and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us good-bye. He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks he'd started to look older, almost high-school age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time to pass as human.

"I'm off," he said. "I just came to say... well, you know."

Annabeth gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on.

I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek and told him to come back.

Percy asked him where he was going to search first.

"Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed from the kiss I gave him. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan..."

"We understand," Annabeth said. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?"

"Yeah."

"And you remembered your reed pipes?"

"Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat."

But he didn't really sound annoyed. He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway.

"Well," he said, "wish me luck."

He gave Annabeth and I another hug. He clapped Percy on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes.

Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware.

"Hey, Grover," Percy called.

He turned at the edge of the woods.

"Wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas."

Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him.

"We'll see him again," I said.

July passed.

I spent my days devising new strategies for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins and visiting my parents.

The last night of the summer session came all too quickly. The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads.

The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

"The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!"

The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand. Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause.

* * *

Percy was carried out of the woods by nymphs. When he was in the sickroom of the Big House Annabeth, Chiron, and I sat with him while Argus stood guard in the corner.

Eventually Percy woke up.

Annabeth sat next to him, holding his nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on his forehead.

"Here we are again," Percy said.

"You idiot," Annabeth said. "You were green and turning gray when we found you. If it weren't for Chiron and Ariana's healing..."

"Now, now," Chiron's voice said. "Percy's constitution deserves some of the credit."

He was sitting near the foot of his bed in human form. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved."

"Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened."

Between sips of nectar, he told us the story. The room was quiet for a long time.

"I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him... He was never the same after his quest."

I was disappointed and mad. I felt like just ripping the necklace that he gave me, which was still on my neck by the way, off and destroying it.

But I wanted a piece of him still with me. I had grew up with him and Annabeth. He treated me like a sister.

"This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once."

"Luke is out there right now," Percy said. "I have to go after him."

Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—"

"Won't even talk about Kronos," Percy snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!"

"Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready."

"Chiron... your prophecy from the Oracle... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? And Annabeth? What about Ariana?"

Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place—"

"You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?"

His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you..."

Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows.

"All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!"

He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing."

"We can't just sit back and do nothing," Percy said.

"We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But you must be careful. Kronos wants you to come unraveled. He wants your life disrupted, your thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come."

"Assuming I live that long."

Chiron put his hand on his ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice..."

"But you must decide whether to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision."

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you."

He glanced at Annabeth. "Oh, and, my dear... whenever you're ready, they're here."

"Who's here?" Percy asked.

Nobody answered.

Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time.

Annabeth studied the ice in Percy's drink.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked her.

"Nothing." She set the glass on the table. "I... just took your advice about something. You... um... need anything?"

"Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside."

"Percy, that isn't a good idea." he slid his legs out of bed.

Annabeth and I caught him before he could crumple to the floor.

Annabeth said, "I told you..."

"I'm fine," Percy insisted.

He managed a step forward. Then another, still leaning heavily on Annabeth and I. Argus followed us outside, but he kept his distance.

By the time we reached the porch, Percy's face was beaded with sweat. He had managed to make it all the way to the railing.

It was dusk. The camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun.

"What are you going to do?" Annabeth asked Percy.

"I don't know." he told her.

Annabeth turned to me. "I'm going to visit my parents all summer. Maybe even who I thought were my mortal parents."

Annabeth pursed her lips, then said quietly, "I'm going home for the year."

"You mean, to your dad's?" Percy asked.

She pointed toward the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, a family stood silhouetted—two little children, a woman, and a tall man with blond hair. They seemed to be waiting. The man was holding a backpack that looked like the one Annabeth had gotten from Waterland in Denver.

"I wrote him a letter when we got back," Annabeth said. "Just like you suggested. I told him ... I was sorry. I'd come home for the school year if he still wanted me. He wrote back immediately. We decided... we'd give it another try."

"That took guts."

She pursed her lips. "You won't try anything stupid during the school year, will you? At least... not without sending me an Iris-message?"

"I won't go looking for trouble. I usually don't have to."

"When I get back next summer," she said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?"

"Sounds like a plan worthy of Athena."

She held out her hand. Percy shook it.

"Take care, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told him. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl."

Annabeth turned to me and gave me a long hug.

I watched her walk up the hill and join her family. She gave her father an awkward hug and looked back at the valley one last time. She touched Thalia's pine tree, then allowed herself to be lead over the crest and into the mortal world.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye Percy," I said and smiled at him. I hugged him quickly and closed my eyes and imagined Olympus.


	14. 14

Annabeth and I followed Percy from his home to his school. We had needed him to go with us and figured out that some people there were monsters.

We appeared just as Percy was fighting the monsters.

I stabbed one of the giants in the back with Kairos and he burst into a cloud of green flame. After he was gone I saw Percy. He stood there with a shocked expression on his face.

One guy, who'd been standing there dumbfounded the whole time, finally came to his senses. He blinked at me, as if he dimly recognized me. "That's the girl... That's the girl—"

Annabeth punched him in the nose and knocked him flat. "And you," she told him, "lay off my friend."

The gym was in flames. Kids were still running around screaming. I heard sirens wailing and a garbled voice over the intercom.

"Annabeth... Ariana..." Percy stammered. "How did you... how long have you..."

"Pretty much all morning." Annabeth sheathed her bronze knife. "We've been trying to find a good time to talk to you, but you were never alone."

"The shadow I saw this morning—that was—" Percy was blushing. "Oh my gods, you were looking in my bedroom window?"

"There's no time to explain!" Annabeth snapped. "We just didn't want to—"

"There!" a woman screamed. The doors burst open and the adults came pouring in.

"Meet us outside," Annabeth told Percy. "And him." She pointed to a cyclops, who was still sitting dazed against the wall. Annabeth gave him a look of distaste that I didn't quite understand. "You'd better bring him."

"What?"

"No time!" she said. "Hurry!"

She put on her Yankees baseball cap. I closed my eyes and imagined an alleyway. We waited on Percy and the cyclops. Annabeth pulled Percy and the cyclops off the sidewalk just as a fire truck screamed past, heading for the school.

"Where'd you find him?" she demanded, pointing at the cyclops.

"He's my friend," Percy told her.

"Is he homeless?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" I asked.

"He can hear you, you know. Why don't you ask him?" Percy said.

She looked surprised. "He can talk?"

"I talk," Tyson admitted. "You are pretty." he said to me.

"Thank you." I smiled brightly at him.

"Ah! Gross!" Annabeth stepped away from him.

I couldn't believe she was being so rude. Percy examined his hands. "Tyson," Percy said in disbelief. "Your hands aren't even burned."

"Of course not," Annabeth muttered. "I'm surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with him around."

Tyson seemed fascinated by my long brown hair. He touched it, but I didn't mind.

"Annabeth," Percy said, "what are you talking about? Laistry-what?"

"Laistrygonians. The monsters in the gym. They're a race of giant cannibals who live in the far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I've never seen them as far south as New York before."

"Laistry—I can't even say that. What would you call them in English?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Canadians," she decided. "Now come on, we have to get out of here."

"The police'll be after me."

"That's the least of our problems," she said. "Have you been having the dreams?"

"The dreams... about Grover?"

Her face turned pale. "Grover? No, what about Grover?"

Percy told us his dream. "Why? What were you dreaming about?"

"Camp," she said at last. "Big trouble at camp."

"My mom was saying the same thing! But what kind of trouble?"

"I don't know exactly. Something's wrong. We have to get there right away. Monsters have been chasing me all the way from Virginia, trying to stop me. Have you had a lot of attacks?"

Percy shook his head. "None all year... until today."

"None? But how..." Her eyes drifted to the cyclops. "Oh."

"What do you mean, 'oh'?"

The cyclops raised his hand. "Canadians in the gym called Percy something... Son of the Sea God?"

"Big guy," Percy said, "you ever hear those old stories about the Greek gods? Like Zeus, Poseidon, Athena—"

"Yes," the cyclops said.

"Well Tyson... those gods are still alive. They kind of follow Western Civilization around, living in the strongest countries, so like now they're in the U.S. And sometimes they have kids with mortals. Kids called half-bloods."

"Yes," he said, like he was still waiting for him to get to the point.

"Uh, well, Annabeth and I are half-bloods," Percy said. "We're like... heroes-in-training. Ariana is a goddess. And whenever monsters pick up our scent, they attack us. That's what those giants were in the gym. Monsters."

"Yes."

Percy stared at him. He didn't seem surprised or confused by what he was telling him. "So... you believe me?"

Tyson nodded. "But you are... Son of the Sea God?"

"Yeah," Percy admitted. "My dad is Poseidon."

Tyson frowned. Now he looked confused. "But then..."

A siren wailed. A police car raced past our alley.

"We don't have time for this," Annabeth said. "We'll talk in the taxi."

"A taxi all the way to camp?" Percy said. "You know how much money—"

"Trust me."

"What about Tyson?"

"We can't just leave him," I decided. "He'll be in trouble, too."

"Yeah," Annabeth looked grim. "We definitely need to take him. Now come on."

I didn't like the way she said that, as if Tyson were a big disease we needed to get to the hospital, but we followed her down the alley. Together the four of us sneaked through the side streets of downtown while a huge column of smoke billowed up behind us from my school gymnasium.

* * *

 

"Here." Annabeth stopped us on the corner of Thomas and Trimble. She fished around in her backpack. "I hope I have one left."

"What are you looking for?" Percy asked.

All around us, sirens wailed. I figured it wouldn't be long before more cops cruised by, looking for juvenile delinquent gym-bombers.

"Found one. Thank the gods." Annabeth pulled out a gold coin that I recognized as a drachma, the currency of Mount Olympus. It had my father Zeus's likeness stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other.

"Annabeth," Percy said, "New York taxi drivers won't take that."

"Stêthi," she shouted in Ancient Greek. "Ô hárma diabolês!"

She'd said: Stop, Chariot of Damnation!

She threw her coin into the street, but instead of clattering on the asphalt, the drachma sank right through and disappeared.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, just where the coin had fallen, the asphalt darkened. It melted into a rectangular pool about the size of a parking space—bubbling red liquid like blood. Then a car erupted from the ooze.

The taxi of the Gray Sisters was smoky gray. It looked like it was woven out of smoke, like you could walk right through it. There were words printed on the door.

The passenger window rolled down, and an old woman stuck her head out. She had a mop of grizzled hair covering her eyes, and she spoke in a weird mumbling way, like she'd just had a shot of Novocain. "Passage? Passage?"

"Four to Camp Half-Blood," Annabeth said. She opened the cab's back door and waved at me to get in.

"Ach!" the old woman screeched. "We don't take his kind!"

She pointed a bony finger at Tyson.

"Extra pay," Annabeth promised. "Three more drachma on arrival."

"Done!" the woman screamed.

Percy got in the cab. I got into the cab with the sisters eyeing me. Tyson squeezed in after me. Annabeth crawled in last.

The interior was also smoky gray, but it felt solid enough. The seat was cracked and lumpy. There were three old ladies, all crammed in the front seat, each with stringy hair covering her eyes, bony hands, and a charcoal-colored sackcloth dress.

The one driving said, "Long Island! Out-of-metro fare bonus! Ha!"

She floored the accelerator, and my head slammed against the backrest. A prerecorded voice came on over the speaker: Hi, this is Ganymede, cup-bearer to Zeus, and when I'm out buying wine for the Lord of the Skies, I always buckle up!

I looked down and found a large black chain instead of a seat belt.

The cab sped around the corner of West Broadway, and the gray lady sitting in the middle screeched, "Look out! Go left!"

"Well, if you'd give me the eye, Tempest, I could see that!" the driver complained.

The driver swerved to avoid an oncoming delivery truck, ran over the curb with a jaw-rattling thump, and flew into the next block.

"Wasp!" the third lady said to the driver. "Give me the girl's coin! I want to bite it."

"You bit it last time, Anger!" said the driver, whose name must've been Wasp. "It's my turn!"

"Is not!" yelled the one called Anger.

The middle one, Tempest, screamed, "Red light!"

"Brake!" yelled Anger.

Instead, Wasp floored the accelerator and rode up on the curb, screeching around another corner, and knocking over a newspaper box.

"Excuse me," Percy said. "But... can you see?"

"No!" screamed Wasp from behind the wheel.

"No!" screamed Tempest from the middle.

"Of course!" screamed Anger by the shotgun window.

Percy looked at me. "They're blind?"

"Not completely," I said. "They have an eye."

"One eye?"

"Yeah."

"Each?"

"No. One eye total."

Next to me, Tyson groaned and grabbed the seat. "Not feeling so good."

"Oh, man," Percy said. "Hang in there, big guy. Anybody got a garbage bag or something?"

The three gray ladies were too busy squabbling to pay him any attention. Percy looked over at Annabeth, who was hanging on for dear life, and gave her a why-did-you-do-this-to-me look.

"Hey," she said, "Gray Sisters Taxi is the fastest way to camp."

"Then why didn't you take it from Virginia?"

"That's outside their service area," she said. "They only serve Greater New York and surrounding communities."

"We've had famous people in this cab!" Anger exclaimed. "Jason! You remember him?"

"Don't remind me!" Wasp wailed. "And we didn't have a cab back then, you old bat. That was three thousand years ago!"

"Give me the tooth!" Anger tried to grab at Wasp's mouth, but Wasp swatted her hand away.

"Only if Tempest gives me the eye!"

"No!" Tempest screeched. "You had it yesterday!"

"But I'm driving, you old hag!"

"Excuses! Turn! That was your turn!"

Wasp swerved hard onto Delancey Street, squishing Percy and I between Tyson and the door. She punched the gas and we shot up the Williamsburg Bridge at seventy miles an hour.

The three sisters were fighting for real now, slapping each other as Anger tried to grab at Wasp's face and Wasp tried to grab at Tempest's. With their hair flying and their mouths open, screaming at each other, I realized that none of the sisters had any teeth except for Wasp, who had one mossy yellow incisor. Instead of eyes, they just had closed, sunken eyelids, except for Anger, who had one bloodshot green eye that stared at everything hungrily, as if it couldn't get enough of anything it saw.

Finally Anger, who had the advantage of sight, managed to yank the tooth out of her sister Wasp's mouth. This made Wasp so mad she swerved toward the edge of the Williamsburg Bridge, yelling, "'Ivit back! 'Ivit back!"

Tyson groaned and clutched his stomach.

"Uh, if anybody's interested," Percy said, "we're going to die!"

"Don't worry," Annabeth said, sounding pretty worried. "The Gray Sisters know what they're doing. They're really very wise."

We were skimming along the edge of a bridge a hundred and thirty feet above the East River.

"Yes, wise!" Anger grinned in the rearview mirror, showing off her newly acquired tooth. "We know things!"

"Every street in Manhattan!" Wasp bragged, still hitting her sister. "The capital of Nepal!"

"The location you seek!" Tempest added.

Immediately her sisters pummeled her from either side, screaming, "Be quiet! Be quiet! He didn't even ask yet!"

"What?" Percy said. "What location? I'm not seeking any—"

"Nothing!" Tempest said. "You're right, boy. It's nothing!"

"Tell me."

"No!" they all screamed.

"The last time we told, it was horrible!" Tempest said.

"Eye tossed in a lake!" Anger agreed.

"Years to find it again!" Wasp moaned. "And speaking of that—give it back!"

"No!" yelled Anger.

"Eye!" Wasp yelled. "Gimme!"

She whacked her sister Anger on the back. There was a sickening pop and something flew out of Anger's face. Anger fumbled for it, trying to catch it, but she only managed to bat it with the back of her hand. The slimy green orb sailed over her shoulder, into the backseat, and straight into Percy's lap.

He jumped so hard, his head hit the ceiling and the eyeball rolled away.

"I can't see!" all three sisters yelled.

"Give me the eye!" Wasp wailed.

 

"Give her the eye!" Annabeth screamed.

"I don't have it!" Percy said.

"There, by your foot," Annabeth said. "Don't step on it! Get it!"

"I'm not picking that up!"

The taxi slammed against the guardrail and skidded along with a horrible grinding noise. The whole car shuddered, billowing gray smoke as if it were about to dissolve from the strain.

"Going to be sick!" Tyson warned.

"Annabeth," I yelled, "let Tyson use your backpack!"

"Are you crazy? Get the eye!"

Wasp yanked the wheel, and the taxi swerved away from the rail. We hurtled down the bridge toward Brooklyn, going faster than any human taxi. The Gray Sisters screeched and pummeled each other and cried out for their eye.

At last Percy steeled his nerves. He ripped off a chunk of his tie-dyed T-shirt, which was already falling apart from all the burn marks, and used it to pick the eyeball off the floor.

"Nice boy!" Anger cried, as if she somehow knew he had her missing peeper. "Give it back!"

"Not until you explain," he told her. "What were you talking about, the location I seek?"

"No time!" Tempest cried. "Accelerating!"

I looked out the window. Sure enough, trees and cars and whole neighborhoods were now zipping by in a gray blur. We were already out of Brooklyn, heading through the middle of Long Island.

"Percy," Annabeth warned, "they can't find our destination without the eye. We'll just keep accelerating until we break into a million pieces."

"First they have to tell me," Percy said. "Or I'll open the window and throw the eye into oncoming traffic."

"No!" the Gray Sisters wailed. "Too dangerous!"

"I'm rolling down the window."

"Wait!" the Gray Sisters screamed. "30, 31, 75, 12!"

They belted it out like a quarterback calling a play.

"What do you mean?" Percy said. "That makes no sense!"

"30, 31, 75, 12!" Anger wailed. "That's all we can tell you. Now give us the eye! Almost to camp!"

We were off the highway now, zipping through the countryside of northern Long Island. I could see Half-Blood Hill ahead of us, with its giant pine tree at the crest—Thalia's tree, which contained the life force or a fallen hero.

"Percy!" Annabeth said more urgently. "Give them the eye now!"

Percy threw the eye into Wasp's lap.

The old lady snatched it up, pushed it into her eye socket like somebody putting in a contact lens, and blinked.  
"Whoa!"

She slammed on the brakes. The taxi spun four or five times in a cloud of smoke and squealed to a halt in the middle of the farm road at the base of Half-Blood Hill.

Tyson let loose a huge belch. "Better now."

"All right," Percy told the Gray Sisters. "Now tell me what those numbers mean."

"No time!" Annabeth opened her door. "We have to get out now."

At the crest of the hill was a group of campers. And they were under attack.


	15. 15

There were two bulls. And not just regular bulls—bronze ones the size of elephants. And even that wasn't bad enough. Naturally they had to breathe fire, too.

As soon as we exited the taxi, the Gray Sisters peeled out, heading back to New York, where life was safer. They didn't even wait for their extra three-drachma payment. They just left us on the side of the road, Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, Tyson and Percy still in their burned-up tie-dyed gym clothes, and me with Kairos and Amaranthine.

 

"Oh, man," said Annabeth, looking at the battle raging on the hill.

What worried me most weren't the bulls themselves. Or the ten heroes in full battle armor who were getting their bronze-plated booties whooped. What worried me was that the bulls were ranging all over the hill, even around the back side of the pine tree. That shouldn't have been possible. The camp's magic boundaries didn't allow monsters to cross past Thalia's tree. But the metal bulls were doing it anyway.

One of the heroes shouted, "Border patrol, to me!" A girl's voice—gruff and familiar.

Border patrol? I thought. The camp didn't have a border patrol.

"It's Clarisse," Annabeth said. "Come on, we have to help her."

Clarisse was one of the biggest bullies at camp. I could tell Percy was hesitant to help.

Still, she was in trouble. Her fellow warriors were scattering, running in panic as the bulls charged. The grass was burning in huge swathes around the pine tree. One hero screamed and waved his arms as he ran in circles, the horse-hair plume on his helmet blazing like a fiery Mohawk. Clarisse's own armor was charred. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder.

I pulled out Kairos.

"Tyson, stay here. I don't want you taking any more chances." Percy said.

"No!" Annabeth said. "We need him."

Percy stared at her. "He's mortal. He got lucky with the dodge balls but he can't—"

"Percy, do you know what those are up there? The Colchis bulls, made by Hephaestus himself. We can't fight them without Medea's Sunscreen SPF 50,000. We'll get burned to a crisp."

"Medea's what?"

Annabeth rummaged through her backpack and cursed. "I had a jar of tropical coconut scent sitting on my nightstand at home. Why didn't I bring it?"

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm not going to let Tyson get fried."

"Percy—"

"Tyson, stay back." Percy raised his sword. "I'm going in."

Tyson tried to protest, but Percy was already running up the hill toward Clarisse, who was yelling at her patrol, trying to get them into phalanx formation. It was a good idea. The few who were listening lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, locking their shields to form an ox-hide—and-bronze wall, their spears bristling over the top like porcupine quills.

Unfortunately, Clarisse could only muster six campers. The other four were still running around with their helmets on fire. Annabeth and I ran toward them, trying to help. Annabeth taunted one of the bulls into chasing her, then turned invisible, completely confusing the monster. The other bull charged Clarisse's line.

The bull moved deadly fast for something so big. Its metal hide gleamed in the sun. It had fist-sized rubies for eyes, and horns of polished silver. When it opened its hinged mouth, a column of white-hot flame blasted out.

"Hold the line!" Clarisse ordered her warriors.

Whatever else you could say about Clarisse, she was brave. She was a big girl with cruel eyes like her father's. She looked like she was born to wear Greek battle armor, but I didn't see how even she could stand against that bull's charge.

Unfortunately, at that moment, the other bull lost interest in finding Annabeth. It turned, wheeling around behind Clarisse on her unprotected side.

"Behind you!" Percy yelled. "Look out!"

He shouldn't have said anything, because all he did was startle her. Bull Number One crashed into her shield, and the phalanx broke. Clarisse went flying backward and landed in a smoldering patch of grass. The bull charged past her, but not before blasting the other heroes with its fiery breath. Their shields melted right off their arms. They dropped their weapons and ran as Bull Number Two closed in on Clarisse for the kill.

Percy lunged forward and grabbed Clarisse by the straps of her armor. He dragged her out of the way just as Bull Number Two freight-trained past. He gave it a good swipe with his sword and cut a huge gash in its flank, but the monster just creaked and groaned and kept on going.

"Let me go!" Clarisse pummeled his hand. "Percy, curse you!"

Annabeth shouted orders to the other heroes, telling them to spread out and keep the bulls distracted.

Bull Number One ran a wide arc, making its way back toward Percy. As it passed the middle of the hill, where the invisible boundary line should've kept it out, it slowed down a little, as if it were struggling against a strong wind; but then it broke through and kept coming. Bull Number Two turned to face Percy, fire sputtering from the gash I'd cut in its side.

Percy lunged but Bull Number Two blew flames at him. He rolled aside as the air turned to pure heat. Percy slashed with his sword and lopped off part of the monster's snout. It galloped away, wild and disoriented.

I ran to go help Percy but Bull Number One charged straight toward him.

Annabeth shouted: "Tyson, help him!"

Somewhere near, toward the crest of the hill, Tyson wailed, "Can't—get—through!"

"I, Annabeth Chase, give you permission to enter camp!"

Thunder shook the hillside. Suddenly Tyson was there, barreling toward me, yelling: "Percy needs help!"

He dove between Percy and the bull just as it unleashed a nuclear firestorm.

"Tyson!" Percy yelled.

The blast swirled around him like a red tornado. I could only see the black silhouette of his body.

But when the fire died, Tyson was still standing there, completely unharmed. Not even his grungy clothes were scorched. Tyson balled his fists and slammed them into the bull's face. "BAD COW!"

His fists made a crater where the bronze bull's snout used to be. Two small columns of flame shot out of its ears. Tyson hit it again, and the bronze crumpled under his hands like aluminum foil. The bull's face now looked like a sock puppet pulled inside out.

"Down!" Tyson yelled.

The bull staggered and fell on its back. Its legs moved feebly in the air, steam coming out of its ruined head in odd places.

Annabeth and I ran over to check on Percy. I gave him some Olympian nectar to drink from my canteen. There was a burning smell that I later learned was Percy. The hair on his arms had been completely singed off.

"The other bull?" Percy asked.

Annabeth pointed down the hill. Clarisse had taken care of Bad Cow Number Two. She'd impaled it through the back leg with a celestial bronze spear. Now, with its snout half gone and a huge gash in its side, it was trying to run in slow motion, going in circles like some kind of merry-go-round animal.

Clarisse pulled off her helmet and marched toward us. A strand of her stringy brown hair was smoldering, but she didn't seem to notice. "You—ruin—everything!" she yelled at Percy. "I had it under control!"

I was too stunned to answer. Annabeth grumbled, "Good to see you too, Clarisse."

"Argh!" Clarisse screamed. "Don't ever, EVER try saving me again!"

"Clarisse," Annabeth said, "you've got wounded campers."

That sobered her up. Even Clarisse cared about the soldiers under her command.

"I'll be back," she growled, then trudged off to assess the damage.

"You didn't die." Percy said to Tyson.

Tyson looked down like he was embarrassed. "I am sorry. Came to help. Disobeyed you."

"My fault," Annabeth said. "I had no choice. I had to let Tyson cross the boundary line to save you. Otherwise, you would've died."

"Let him cross the boundary line?'" Percy asked. "But—"

"Percy," she said, "have you ever looked at Tyson closely? I mean ... in the face. Ignore the Mist, and really look at him."

"Tyson," Percy stammered. "You're a..."

"Cyclops," Annabeth offered. "A baby, by the looks of him. Probably why he couldn't get past the boundary line as easily as the bulls. Tyson's one of the homeless orphans."

"One of the what?"

"They're in almost all the big cities," Annabeth said distastefully. "They're... mistakes, Percy. Children of nature spirits and gods... Well, one god in particular, usually... and they don't always come out right. No one wants them. They get tossed aside. They grow up wild on the streets. I don't know how this one found you, but he obviously likes you. We should take him to Chiron, let him decide what to do."

"But the fire. How—"

"He's a Cyclops." Annabeth paused. "They work the forges of the gods. They have to be immune to fire. That's what I was trying to tell you."

The whole side of the hill was burning. Wounded heroes needed attention. And there were still two banged-up bronze bulls to dispose of.

Clarisse came back over and wiped the soot off her forehead. "Jackson, if you can stand, get up. We need to carry the wounded back to the Big House, let Tantalus know what's happened."

"Tantalus?" Percy asked.

"The activities director," Clarisse said impatiently.

"Chiron is the activities director. And where's Argus? He's head of security. He should be here."

Clarisse made a sour face. "Argus got fired. You three have been gone too long. Things are changing."

"But Chiron... He's trained kids to fight monsters for over three thousand years. He can't just be gone. What happened?"

"That happened," Clarisse snapped.

She pointed to Thalia's tree.

Every camper knew the story behind the tree. Six years ago, Grover, Annabeth, and two other demigods named Thalia and Luke had come to Camp Half-Blood chased by an army of monsters. When they got cornered on top of this hill, Thalia, a daughter of Zeus, had made her last stand here to give her friends time to reach safety. As she was dying, her father, Zeus, took pity on her and changed her into a pine tree. Her spirit had reinforced the magic borders of the camp, protecting it from monsters. The pine had been here ever since, strong and healthy.

But now, its needles were yellow. A huge pile of dead ones littered the base of the tree. In the center of the trunk, three feet from the ground, was a puncture mark the size of a bullet hole, oozing green sap.

A sliver of ice ran through my chest. Now I understood why the camp was in danger. The magical borders were failing because Thalia's tree was dying.

Someone had poisoned it.


	16. 16

The Big House was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. The strawberry fields still baked in the sun. The same white-columned Greek buildings were scattered around the valley—the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins—a crazy assortment of thirteen buildings, each representing a different Olympian god, including me.

But there was an air of danger now. You could tell something was wrong. Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on Half-Blood Hill stood out like ugly scars.

As we made our way to the Big House, I recognized a lot of kids from last summer. Nobody stopped to talk. Nobody said, "Welcome back." Some did double takes when they saw Tyson, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties—running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels.

None of that mattered to Tyson. He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw. "Whasthat!" he gasped.

"The stables for pegasi," Percy said. "The winged horses."

"Whasthat!"

"Um... those are the toilets."

"Whasthat!"

"The cabins for the campers. If they don't know who your Olympian parent is, they put you in the Hermes cabin—that brown one over there—until you're determined. Then, once they know, they put you in your dad or mom's group."

"You... have a cabin?"

"Number three." Percy pointed to a low gray building made of sea stone.

"You live with friends in the cabin?"

"No. No, just me."

When we got to the Big House, we found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags.

As soon as we saw him, Tyson froze. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture.

Chiron turned, looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"

Annabeth ran up and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happening? You're not... leaving?" Her voice was shaky. Chiron was like a second father to her.

Chiron ruffled her hair and gave her a kindly smile. "Hello, child. Ariana, hello. And Percy, my goodness. You've grown over the year!"

"Clarisse said you were... you were..." Percy said.

"Fired." Chiron's eyes glinted with dark humor. "Ah, well, someone had to take the blame. Lord Zeus was most upset. The tree he'd created from the spirit of his daughter, poisoned! Mr. D had to punish someone."

"Besides himself, you mean," Percy growled.

I ran up to Chiron and hugged him too.

"But this is crazy!" Annabeth cried. "Chiron, you couldn't have had anything to do with poisoning Thalia's tree!"

"Nevertheless," Chiron sighed, "some in Olympus do not trust me now, under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" I asked.

Chiron's face darkened. He stuffed a Latin-English dictionary into his saddlebag while the Frank Sinatra music oozed from his boom box.

Tyson was still staring at Chiron in amazement. He whimpered like he wanted to pat Chiron's flank but was afraid to come closer. "Pony?"

Chiron sniffed. "My dear young Cyclops! I am a centaur."

"Chiron," Percy said. "What about the tree? What happened?"

He shook his head sadly. "The poison used on Thalia's pine is something from the Underworld, Percy. Some venom even I have never seen. It must have come from a monster quite deep in the pits of Tartarus."

"Then we know who's responsible. Kro—"

"Do not invoke the titan lord's name, Percy. Especially not here, not now."

"But last summer he tried to cause a civil war in Olympus! This has to be his idea. He'd get Luke to do it, that traitor."

"Perhaps," Chiron said. "But I fear I am being held responsible because I did not prevent it and I cannot cure it. The tree has only a few weeks of life left unless..."

"Unless what?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Chiron said. "A foolish thought. The whole valley is feeling the shock of the poison. The magical borders are deteriorating. The camp itself is dying. Only one source of magic would be strong enough to reverse the poison, and it was lost centuries ago."

"What is it?" Percy asked. "We'll go find it!"

Chiron closed his saddlebag. He pressed the stop button on his boom box. Then he turned and rested his hand on Percy's shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes. "Percy, you must promise me that you will not act rashly. I told your mother I did not want you to come here at all this summer. It's much too dangerous. But now that you are here, stay here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave."

"Why?" Percy asked. "I want to do something! I can't just let the borders fail. The whole camp will be—"

"Overrun by monsters," Chiron said. "Yes, I fear so. But you must not let yourself be baited into hasty action! This could be a trap of the titan lord. Remember last summer! He almost took your life."

Annabeth was trying hard not to cry. Chiron brushed a tear from her cheek. "Stay with Percy, child," he told her. "Keep him safe. The prophecy—remember it!"

"I—I will."

"Um..." Percy said. "Would this be the super-dangerous prophecy that has me in it, but the gods have forbidden you to tell me about?"

Nobody answered.

"Chiron..." Annabeth said. "You told me the gods made you immortal only so long as you were needed to train heroes. If they dismiss you from camp—"

"Yeah... Chiron—" I started

"Swear you two will do your best to keep Percy from danger," he insisted. "Swear upon the River Styx."

"I—I swear it upon the River Styx," Annabeth and I said.

Thunder rumbled outside.

"Very well," Chiron said. He seemed to relax just a little. "Perhaps my name will be cleared and I shall return. Until then, I go to visit my wild kinsmen in the Everglades. It's possible they know of some cure for the poisoned tree that I have forgotten. In any event, I will stay in exile until this matter is resolved... one way or another."

Annabeth stifled a sob. Chiron patted her shoulder awkwardly. "There, now, child. I must entrust your safety to Mr. D and the new activities director. We must hope... well, perhaps they won't destroy the camp quite as quickly as I fear."

"Who is this Tantalus guy, anyway?" Percy demanded. "Where does he get off taking your job?"

A conch horn blew across the valley. I hadn't realized how late it was. It was time for the campers to assemble for dinner.

"Go," Chiron said. "You will meet him at the pavilion. I will contact your mother, Percy, and let her know you're safe. No doubt she'll be worried by now. Just remember my warning! You are in grave danger. Do not think for a moment that the titan lord has forgotten you!"

With that, he clopped out of the apartment and down the hall, Tyson calling after him, "Pony! Don't go!"

Tyson started bawling almost as bad as Annabeth. I started crying a bit too, I knew Chiron for a long time. The sun was setting behind the dining pavilion as the campers came up from their cabins. We stood in the shadow of a marble column and watched them file in. Annabeth was still pretty shaken up, but she promised she'd talk to us later. Then she went off to join her siblings from the Athena cabin—a dozen boys and girls with blond hair and gray eyes like hers. Annabeth wasn't the oldest, but she'd been at camp more summers than just about anybody. You could tell that by looking at her camp necklace—one bead for every summer, and Annabeth had six. No one questioned her right to lead the line.

Next came Clarisse, leading the Ares cabin. She had one arm in a sling and a nasty-looking gash on her cheek, but otherwise her encounter with the bronze bulls didn't seem to have fazed her. Someone had taped a piece of paper to her back that said, YOU MOO, GIRL! But nobody in her cabin was bothering to tell her about it.

After the Ares kids came the Hephaestus cabin—six guys led by Charles Beckendorf, a big fifteen-year-old African American kid. He had hands the size of catchers' mitts and a face that was hard and squinty from looking into a blacksmiths forge all day. He was nice enough once you got to know him, but no one ever called him Charlie or Chuck or Charles. Most just called him Beckendorf. Rumor was he could make anything. Give him a chunk of metal and he could create a razor-sharp sword or a robotic warrior or a singing birdbath for your grandmother's garden. Whatever you wanted.

The other cabins filed in: Demeter, Apollo, Aphrodite, Dionysus. Naiads came up from the canoe lake. Dryads melted out of the trees. From the meadow came a dozen satyrs, who reminded me painfully of Grover.

I'd always had a soft spot for the satyrs. When they were at camp, they had to do all kinds of odd jobs for Mr. D, the director, but their most important work was out in the real world. They were the camp's seekers. They went undercover into schools all over the world, looking for potential half-bloods and escorting them back to camp.

After the satyrs filed in to dinner, the Hermes cabin brought up the rear. They were always the biggest cabin. Last summer, it had been led by Luke, the guy who'd fought with Thalia and Annabeth on top of Half-Blood Hill.

Now the Hermes cabin was led by Travis and Connor Stoll. They weren't twins, but they looked so much alike it didn't matter. I could never remember which one was older. They were both tall and skinny, with mops of brown hair that hung in their eyes. They wore orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts untucked over baggy shorts, and they had those elfish features all Hermes's kids had: upturned eyebrows, sarcastic smiles, a gleam in their eyes whenever they looked at you—like they were about to drop a firecracker down your shirt.

I quickly smiled to Percy before I stepped into the pavilion and quickly walked to my seat. I sat down in my normal chair.

Percy led Tyson into the middle of the pavilion. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. "Who invited that?" somebody at the Apollo table murmured.

From the head table, where I was seated, a familiar voice drawled, "Well, well, if it isn't Peter Johnson. My millennium is complete."

"Percy Jackson... sir." Percy said through gritted teeth.

Dionysus sipped his Diet Coke. "Yes. Well, as you young people say these days: Whatever."

He was wearing his usual leopard-pattern Hawaiian shirt, walking shorts, and tennis shoes with black socks. With his pudgy belly and his blotchy red face, he looked like a Las Vegas tourist who'd stayed up too late in the casinos. Behind him, a nervous-looking satyr was peeling the skins off grapes and handing them to Dionysus one at a time.

Zeus appointed Dionysus director of Camp HalfBlood to dry out for a hundred years—a punishment for chasing some off-limits wood nymph.

Next to him, where Chiron usually sat (or stood, in centaur form), was someone I'd never seen before—a pale, horribly thin man in a threadbare orange prisoner's jump-suit. The number over his pocket read 0001. He had blue shadows under his eyes, dirty fingernails, and badly cut gray hair, like his last haircut had been done with a weed whacker.

"This boy," Dionysus told him, "you need to watch. Poseidon's child, you know."

"Ah!" the prisoner said. "That one."

"I am Tantalus," the prisoner said, smiling coldly. "On special assignment here until, well, until my Lord Dionysus decides otherwise. And you, Perseus Jackson, I do expect you to refrain from causing any more trouble."

"Trouble?" Percy demanded.

Dionysus snapped his fingers. A newspaper appeared on the table—the front page of today's New York Post, There was Percy's yearbook picture from his school.

"Yes, trouble," Tantalus said with satisfaction. "You caused plenty of it last summer, I understand."

A satyr inched forward nervously and set a plate of barbecue in front of Tantalus. The new activities director licked his lips. He looked at his empty goblet and said, "Root beer. Barq's special stock. 1967."

The glass filled itself with foamy soda. Tantalus stretched out his hand hesitantly, as if he were afraid the goblet was hot.

"Go on, then, old fellow," Dionysus said, a strange sparkle in his eyes. "Perhaps now it will work."

Tantalus grabbed for the glass, but it scooted away before he could touch it. A few drops of root beer spilled, and Tantalus tried to dab them up with his fingers, but the drops rolled away like quicksilver before he could touch them. He growled and turned toward the plate of barbecue. He picked up a fork and tried to stab a piece of brisket, but the plate skittered down the table and flew off the end, straight into the coals of the brazier.

"Blast!" Tantalus muttered.

"Ah, well," Dionysus said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Perhaps a few more days. Believe me, old chap, working at this camp will be torture enough. I'm sure your old curse will fade eventually."

"Eventually," muttered Tantalus, staring at Dionysus's Diet Coke. "Do you have any idea how dry one's throat gets after three thousand years?"

"You're that spirit from the Fields of Punishment," Percy said. "The one who stands in the lake with the fruit tree hanging over you, but you can't eat or drink."

Tantalus sneered at him. "A real scholar, aren't you, boy?"

"You must've done something really horrible when you were alive," Percy said. "What was it?"

Tantalus's eyes narrowed. Behind him, the satyrs were shaking their heads vigorously, trying to warn him.

"I'll be watching you, Percy Jackson," Tantalus said. "I don't want any problems at my camp."

"Your camp has problems already... sir."

"Oh, go sit down, Johnson," Dionysus sighed. "I believe that table over there is yours—the one where no one else ever wants to sit."

Percy said, "Come on, Tyson."

"Oh, no," Tantalus said. "The monster stays here. We must decide what to do with it."

"Him," I snapped, getting annoyed. "His name is Tyson."

The new activities director raised an eyebrow.

"Tyson saved the camp," I insisted. "He pounded those bronze bulls. Otherwise they would've burned down this whole place."

"Yes," Tantalus sighed, "and what a pity that would've been."

Dionysus snickered.

"Leave us," Tantalus ordered, "while we decide this creature's fate."

Tyson looked at Percy.

"I'll be right over here, big guy," Percy promised. "Don't worry. We'll find you a good place to sleep tonight."

Tyson nodded. "I believe you. You are my friend."

During the whole meal I had to hear Dionysus and Tantalus talking.

But then Tantalus had one of the satyrs blow the conch horn to get our attention for announcements.

"Yes, well," Tantalus said, once the talking had died down. "Another fine meal! Or so I am told." As he spoke, he inched his hand toward his refilled dinner plate, as if maybe the food wouldn't notice what he was doing, but it did. It shot away down the table as soon as he got within six inches.

"And here on my first day of authority," he continued, "I'd like to say what a pleasant form of punishment it is to be here. Over the course of the summer, I hope to torture, er, interact with each and every one of you children. You all look good enough to eat."

Dionysus clapped politely, leading to some halfhearted applause from the satyrs. Tyson was still standing at the head table, looking uncomfortable, but every time he tried to scoot out of the limelight, Tantalus pulled him back.

"And now some changes!" Tantalus gave the campers a crooked smile. "We are reinstituting the chariot races!"

Murmuring broke out at all the tables—excitement, fear, disbelief. My eyes widened and I looked at him, confused.

"Now I know," Tantalus continued, raising his voice, "that these races were discontinued some years ago due to, ah, technical problems."

"Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," someone at the Apollo table called.

"Yes, yes!" Tantalus said. "But I know that you will all join me in welcoming the return of this camp tradition. Golden laurels will go to the winning charioteers each month. Teams may register in the morning! The first race will be held in three days time. We will release you from most of your regular activities to prepare your chariots and choose your horses. Oh, and did I mention, the victorious team's cabin will have no chores for the month in which they win?"

An explosion of excited conversation—no cleaning for a whole month? No stable cleaning? Was he serious?

Then the last person I expected to object did so.

"But, sir!" Clarisse said. She looked nervous, but she stood up to speak from the Ares table. Some of the campers snickered when they saw the YOU MOO, GIRL! sign on her back. "What about patrol duty? I mean, if we drop every-thing to ready our chariots—"

"Ah, the hero of the day," Tantalus exclaimed. "Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!"

Clarisse blinked, then blushed. "Um, I didn't—"

"And modest, too." Tantalus grinned. "Not to worry, my dear! This is a summer camp. We are here to enjoy our-selves, yes?"

"But the tree—"

"And now," Tantalus said, as several of Clarisse's cabin mates pulled her back into her seat, "before we proceed to the campfire and sing-along, one slight housekeeping issue. Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Ariana have seen fit, for some reason, to bring this here." Tantalus waved a hand toward Tyson.

Uneasy murmuring spread among the campers.

"Now, of course," he said, "Cyclopes have a reputation for being bloodthirsty monsters with a very small brain capacity. Under normal circumstances, I would release this beast into the woods and have you hunt it down with torches and pointed sticks. But who knows? Perhaps this Cyclops is not as horrible as most of its brethren. Until it proves worthy of destruction, we need a place to keep it! I've thought about the stables, but that will make the horses nervous. Hermes's cabin, possibly?"

Silence at the Hermes table. Travis and Connor Stoll developed a sudden interest in the tablecloth. I couldn't blame them. The Hermes cabin was always full to bursting. There was no way they could take in a six-foot-three Cyclops.

"Come now," Tantalus chided. "The monster may be able to do some menial chores. Any suggestions as to where such a beast should be kenneled?"

Suddenly everybody gasped.

Tantalus scooted away from Tyson in surprise. All I could do was stare in disbelief at the brilliant green light —a dazzling holographic image that had appeared above Tyson's head.

Swirling over Tyson was a glowing green trident—the same symbol that had appeared above Percy the day Poseidon had claimed him as his son.

There was a moment of awed silence.

Being claimed was a rare event. Some campers waited in vain for it their whole lives. When I'd been claimed by my parents many summers ago, everyone had knelt. But now, they followed Tantalus's lead, and Tantalus roared with laughter. "Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!"

Everybody laughed except Annabeth, me, and a few other people.

Tyson didn't seem to notice. He was too mystified, trying to swat the glowing trident that was now fading over his head. He was too innocent to understand how much they were making fun of him, how cruel people were.


	17. 17

The next few days were torture, just like Tantalus wanted.

Suddenly, Percy wasn't Percy Jackson, the cool guy who'd retrieved Zeus's lightning bolt last summer. Now he was Percy Jackson, the poor schmuck with the ugly monster for a brother.

"He's not my real brother!" Percy protested whenever Tyson wasn't around. "He's more like a halfbrother on the monstrous side of the family. Like... a half-brother twice removed, or something."

Nobody bought it.

Annabeth tried to make him feel better. She suggested they team up for the chariot race. I supported them through it since Dionysus said I couldn't enter because I had advantages above everybody else, which kind of annoyed me.

One morning Annabeth, Percy were sitting by the canoe lake while they were sketching chariot designs when some jokers from Aphrodite's cabin walked by and asked Percy if he needed to borrow some eyeliner for his eye... "Oh sorry, eyes."

This angered me because Tyson was my friend. I almost got up to say something to them but I willed myself to sit down.

As they walked away laughing, Annabeth grumbled, "Just ignore them, Percy. It isn't your fault you have a monster for a brother."

"He's not my brother!" Percy snapped. "And he's not a monster, either!"

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. "Hey, don't get mad at me! And technically, he is a monster."

"Well you gave him permission to enter the camp."

"Because it was the only way to save your life! I mean... I'm sorry, Percy, I didn't expect Poseidon to claim him. Cyclopes are the most deceitful, treacherous—"

"He is not! What have you got against Cyclopes, anyway?"

"Just forget it," she said. "Now, the axle for this chariot—"

"You're treating him like he's this horrible thing," Percy said. "He saved my life."

Annabeth threw down her pencil and stood. "Then maybe you should design a chariot with him."

"Maybe I should."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

She stormed off.

The next couple of days, I tried to figure out a way to get Chiron back, which wasn't very successful.

* * *

The morning of the race was hot and humid. Fog lay low on the ground like sauna steam. Millions of birds were roosting in the trees—fat gray-and-white pigeons, except they didn't coo like regular pigeons. They made this annoying metallic screeching sound that reminded me of submarine radar.

The racetrack had been built in a grassy field between the archery range and the woods. Hephaestus's cabin had used the bronze bulls, which were completely tame since they'd had their heads smashed in, to plow an oval track in a matter of minutes.

There were rows of stone steps for the spectators— Tantalus, the satyrs, a few dryads, all of the campers who weren't participating, and me. Dionysus didn't show. He never got up before ten o'clock.

"Right!" Tantalus announced as the teams began to assemble. A naiad had brought him a big platter of pastries, and as Tantalus spoke, his right hand chased a chocolate eclair across the judge's table. "You all know the rules. A quarter-mile track. Twice around to win. Two horses per chariot. Each team will consist of a driver and a fighter. Weapons are allowed. Dirty tricks are expected. But try not to kill anybody!" Tantalus smiled. "Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s'mores at the campfire for a week! Now ready your chariots!"

Beckendorf led the Hephaestus team onto the track. They had a sweet ride made of bronze and iron—even the horses, which were magical automatons like the Colchis bulls. I had no doubt that their chariot had all kinds of mechanical traps and more fancy options than a fully loaded Maserati.

The Ares chariot was bloodred, and pulled by two grisly horse skeletons. Clarisse climbed aboard with a batch of javelins, spiked balls, caltrops, and a bunch of other nasty toys.

Apollo's chariot was trim and graceful and completely gold, pulled by two beautiful palominos. Their fighter was armed with a bow, though he had promised not to shoot regular pointed arrows at the opposing drivers.

Hermes's chariot was green and kind of old-looking, as if it hadn't been out of the garage in years. It didn't look like anything special, but it was manned by the Stoll brothers, and I shuddered to think what dirty tricks they'd schemed up.

That left two chariots: one driven by Annabeth, and the other by Percy.

The conch horn sounded. "Charioteers!" Tantalus called. "To your mark!"

As I was waiting for the race to start, I noticed how many more pigeons were in the trees now—screeching like crazy, making the whole forest rustle. Nobody else seemed to be paying them much attention, but they made me nervous. Their beaks glinted strangely. Their eyes seemed shinier than regular birds.

As the chariots lined up, more shiny-eyed pigeons gathered in the woods. They were screeching so loudly the campers in the stands were starting to take notice, glancing nervously at the trees, which shivered under the weight of the birds. Tantalus didn't look concerned, but he did have to speak up to be heard over the noise.

"Charioteers!" he shouted. "Attend your mark!"

He waved his hand and the starting signal dropped. The chariots roared to life. Hooves thundered against the dirt. The crowd cheered. I cheered for Percy and Annabeth.

Almost immediately there was a loud nasty crack! I looked in time to see the Apollo chariot flip over. The Hermes chariot had rammed into it—maybe by mistake, maybe not. The riders were thrown free, but their panicked horses dragged the golden chariot diagonally across the track. The Hermes team, Travis and Connor Stoll, were laughing at their good luck, but not for long. The Apollo horses crashed into theirs, and the Hermes chariot flipped too, leaving a pile of broken wood and four rearing horses in the dust.

Percy was making good time, pulling ahead of Ares, but Annabeth's chariot was way ahead of them.

The Hephaestus chariot was starting to gain on them, too. Beckendorf pressed a button, and a panel slid open on the side of his chariot. Three sets of balls and chains shot straight toward their wheels. I started to worry a bit. Tyson whacked them aside with a quick swipe of his pole. He gave the Hephaestus chariot a good shove and sent them skittering sideways while they pulled ahead. I clapped.

Tyson pointed toward the woods and I saw what he was worried about. The pigeons had risen from the trees. They were spiraling like a huge tornado, heading toward the track.

They were now only ten feet behind Annabeth.

Annabeth's fighter wasn't smiling now. He pulled a javelin from his collection and took aim at Percy. He was about to throw when they heard the screaming.

The pigeons were swarming—thousands of them dive-bombing the spectators in the stands, attacking the other chariots. Beckendorf was mobbed. His fighter tried to bat the birds away but he couldn't see anything. The chariot veered off course and plowed through the strawberry fields, the mechanical horses steaming.

In the Ares chariot, Clarisse barked an order to her fighter, who quickly threw a screen of camouflage netting over their basket. The birds swarmed around it, pecking and clawing at the fighter's hands as he tried to hold up the net, but Clarisse just gritted her teeth and kept driving. Her skeletal horses seemed immune to the distraction. The pigeons pecked uselessly at their empty eye sockets and flew through their rib cages, but the stallions kept right on running.

The spectators weren't so lucky. The birds were slashing at any bit of exposed flesh, driving everyone into a panic. Now that the birds were closer, it was clear they weren't normal pigeons. Their eyes were beady and evil-looking. Their beaks were made of bronze, and they we're razor sharp.

I pulled out Kairos and slashed at the birds coming towards me but some of them came close and pecked me.

The Athena campers were calling for shields. The archers from Apollo's cabin brought out their bows and arrows, ready to slay the menace, but with so many campers mixed in with the birds, it wasn't safe to shoot.

At the track, the chariots were in flames. Wounded campers ran in every direction, with birds shredding their clothes and pulling out their hair, while Tantalus chased breakfast pastries around the stands, every once in a while yelling, "Everything's under control! Not to worry.'"

Suddenly the air was filled with violins and a bunch of guys moaning in Italian.

The demon pigeons went nuts. They started flying in circles, running into each other like they wanted to bash their own brains out. Then they abandoned the track altogether and flew skyward in a huge dark wave.

"Now!" shouted Annabeth. "Archers!"

With clear targets, Apollo's archers had flawless aim. Most of them could nock five or six arrows at once. Within minutes, the ground was littered with dead bronze-beaked pigeons, and the survivors were a distant trail of smoke on the horizon.

The camp was saved, but the wreckage wasn't pretty. Most of the chariots had been completely destroyed. Almost everyone was wounded, bleeding from multiple bird pecks. The kids from Aphrodite's cabin were screaming because their hairdos had been ruined and their clothes pooped on. I was looking at my skin to find many wounds.

"Bravo!" Tantalus said. I looked up. "We have our first winner!" He walked to the finish line and awarded the golden laurels for the race to a stunned-looking Clarisse. I was surprised.

Then he turned and smiled at Percy. "And now to punish the troublemakers who disrupted this race."


	18. 18

The way Tantalus saw it, the Stymphalian birds had simply been minding their own business in the woods and would not have attacked if Annabeth, Tyson, and Percy hadn't disturbed them with their bad chariot driving.

This was so completely unfair, Percy told Tantalus to go chase a doughnut and I yelled at him, which didn't help his mood. He sentenced us to kitchen patrol—scrubbing pots and platters all afternoon in the underground kitchen with the cleaning harpies. The harpies washed with lava instead of water, to get that extra-clean sparkle and kill ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs, so Annabeth, Percy, and I had to wear asbestos gloves and aprons.

Tyson didn't mind. He plunged his bare hands right in and started scrubbing. Tantalus had ordered a special luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse's chariot victory—a full-course meal featuring country-fried Stymphalian death-bird.

The only good thing about our punishment was that it gave Annabeth, Percy, and me a common enemy and lots of time to talk. After listening to Percy's dream about Grover, I believed him.

"If he's really found it," Annabeth murmured, "and if we could retrieve it—"

"Hold on," Percy said. "You act like this... whatever-it-is Grover found is the only thing in the world that could save the camp. What is it?"

"I'll give you a hint. What do you get when you skin a ram?"

"Messy?"

She sighed. "A fleece. The coat of a ram is called a fleece. And if that ram happens to have golden wool—"

"The Golden Fleece. Are you serious?"

Annabeth scrapped a plateful of death-bird bones into the lava. "Percy, remember the Gray Sisters? They said they knew the location of the thing you seek. And they mentioned Jason. Three thousand years ago, they told him how to find the Golden Fleece. You do know the story of Jason and the Argonauts?"

"Yeah," Percy said. "That old movie with the clay skeletons."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh my gods, Percy! You are so hopeless."

"What?" Percy demanded.

"Just listen. The real story of the Fleece: there were these two children of Zeus, Cadmus and Europa, okay? They were about to get offered up as human sacrifices, when they prayed to Zeus to save them. So Zeus sent this magical flying ram with golden wool, which picked them up in Greece and carried them all the way to Colchis in Asia Minor. Well, actually it carried Cadmus. Europa fell off and died along the way, but that's not important."

"It was probably important to her."

"The point is, when Cadmus got to Colchis, he sacrificed the golden ram to the gods and hung the Fleece in a tree in the middle of the kingdom. The Fleece brought prosperity to the land. Animals stopped getting sick. Plants grew better. Farmers had bumper crops. Plagues never visited. That's why Jason wanted the Fleece. It can revitalize any land where it's placed. It cures sickness, strengthens nature, cleans up pollution—"

"It could cure Thalia's tree."

I nodded. "And it would totally strengthen the borders of Camp Half-Blood. But Percy, the Fleece has been missing for centuries. Tons of heroes have searched for it with no luck."

"But Grover found it," Percy said. "He went looking for Pan and he found the Fleece instead because they both radiate nature magic. It makes sense. We can rescue him and save the camp at the same time. It's perfect!"

Annabeth hesitated. "A little too perfect, don't you think? What if it's a trap?"

"What choice do we have?" Percy asked. "Are you going to help me rescue Grover or not?"

She glanced at Tyson, who'd lost interest in our conversation and was happily making toy boats out of cups and spoons in the lava.

"Percy," she said under her breath, "we'll have to fight a Cyclops. Polyphemus, the worst of the Cyclopes. And there's only one place his island could be. The Sea of Monsters."

"Where's that?"

"The Sea of Monsters. The same sea Odysseus sailed through, and Jason, and Aeneas, and all the others."

"You mean the Mediterranean?"

"No. Well, yes... but no."

"Another straight answer. Thanks."

"Look, Percy, the Sea of Monsters is the sea all heroes sail through on their adventures. It used to be in the Mediterranean, yes. But like everything else, it shifts locations as the West's center of power shifts."

"Like Mount Olympus being above the Empire State Building," Percy said. "And Hades being under Los Angeles."

"Right."

"But a whole sea full of monsters—how could you hide something like that? Wouldn't the mortals notice weird things happening... like, ships getting eaten and stuff?"

"Of course they notice. They don't understand, but they know something is strange about that part of the ocean. The Sea of Monsters is off the east coast of the U.S. now, just northeast of Florida. The mortals even have a name for it."

"The Bermuda Triangle?"

"Exactly."

Percy stopped for a few moments. "Okay... so at least we know where to look."

"It's still a huge area, Percy. Searching for one tiny island in monster-infested waters—"

"Hey, I'm the son of the sea god. This is my home turf. How hard can it be?"

Annabeth knit her eyebrows. "We'll have to talk to Tantalus, get approval for a quest. He'll say no."

"Not if we tell him tonight at the campfire in front of everybody. The whole camp will hear. They'll pressure him. He won't be able to refuse."

"Maybe." A little bit of hope crept into Annabeth's voice. "We'd better get these dishes done. Hand me the lava spray gun, will you?"

* * *

That night at the campfire, Apollo's cabin led the sing-along. They tried to get everybody's spirits up, but it wasn't easy after that afternoon's bird attack. We all sat around a semicircle of stone steps, singing halfheartedly and watching the bonfire blaze while the Apollo guys strummed their guitars and picked their lyres.

We did all the standard camp numbers: "Down by the Aegean," "I Am My Own Great-Great Great-Great-Grandpa," "This Land is Minos's Land." The bonfire was enchanted, so the louder you sang, the higher it rose, changing color and heat with the mood of the crowd. On a good night, I'd seen it twenty feet high, bright purple, and so hot the whole front row's marshmallows burst into the flames. Tonight, the fire was only five feet high, barely warm, and the flames were the color of lint.

Dionysus left early. After suffering through a few songs, he muttered something about how even pinochle with Chiron had been more exciting than this. Then he gave Tantalus a distasteful look and headed back toward the Big House.

When the last song was over, Tantalus said, "Well, that was lovely!"

He came forward with a toasted marshmallow on a stick and tried to pluck it off, real casual-like. But before he could touch it, the marshmallow flew off the stick. Tantalus made a wild grab, but the marshmallow committed suicide, diving into the flames.

Tantalus turned back toward us, smiling coldly. "Now then! Some announcements about tomorrow's schedule."

"Sir," Percy said.

Tantalus's eye twitched. "Our kitchen boy has something to say?"

Some of the Ares campers snickered. Percy stood and looked at me. I stood up with Annabeth.

Percy said, "We have an idea to save the camp."

Dead silence, but I could tell he'd gotten everybody's interest, because the campfire flared bright yellow.

"Indeed," Tantalus said blandly. "Well, if it has anything to do with chariots—"

"The Golden Fleece," Percy said. "We know where it is."

The flames burned orange. Before Tantalus could stop him, Percy blurted out his dream about Grover and Polyphemus's island. I stepped in and reminded everybody what the Fleece could do.

"The Fleece can save the camp," I concluded. "I'm certain of it."

"Nonsense," said Tantalus. "We don't need saving."

Everybody stared at him until Tantalus started looking uncomfortable.

"Besides," he added quickly, "the Sea of Monsters? That's hardly an exact location. You wouldn't even know where to look."

"Yes, I would," Percy said, "30, 31, 75, 12."

"Ooo-kay," Tantalus said. "Thank you for sharing those meaningless numbers."

"They're sailing coordinates," Percy said. "Latitude and longitude. I, uh, learned about it in social studies."

Even Annabeth looked impressed. "30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west. He's right! The Gray Sisters gave us those coordinates. That'd be somewhere in the Atlantic, off the coast of Florida. The Sea of Monsters. We need a quest!"

"Wait just a minute," Tantalus said.

But the campers took up the chant. "We need a quest! We need a quest!"

The flames rose higher.

"It isn't necessary!" Tantalus insisted.

"WE NEED A QUEST! WE NEED A QUEST!"

"Fine!" Tantalus shouted, his eyes blazing with anger. "You brats want me to assign a quest?"

"YES!"

"Very well," he agreed. "I shall authorize a champion to undertake this perilous journey, to retrieve the Golden Fleece and bring it back to camp. Or die trying."

"I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle!" Tantalus announced. "And choose two companions for the journey. And I think the choice of champion is obvious."

Tantalus looked at Annabeth, Percy, and I as if he wanted to flay us alive. "The champion should be one who has earned the camp's respect, who has proven resourceful in the chariot races and courageous in the defense of the camp. You shall lead this quest... Clarisse!"

The fire flickered a thousand different colors. The Ares cabin started stomping and cheering, "CLARISSE! CLARISSE!"

Clarisse stood up, looking stunned. Then she swallowed, and her chest swelled with pride. "I accept the quest!"

"Wait!" Percy shouted. "Grover is my friend. The dream came to me."

"Sit down!" yelled one of the Ares campers. "You had your chance last summer!"

"Yeah, he just wants to be in the spotlight again!" another said.

Clarisse glared at him. "I accept the quest!" she repeated. "I, Clarisse, daughter of Ares, will save the camp!"

The Ares campers cheered even louder. Annabeth protested, and the other Athena campers joined in. Everybody else started taking sides—shouting and arguing and throwing marshmallows. I thought it was going to turn into a full-fledged s'more war until Tantalus shouted, "Silence, you brats!"

His tone stunned even me.

"Sit down!" he ordered. "And I will tell you a ghost story."

I didn't know what he was up to, but we all moved reluctantly back to our seats. The evil aura radiating from Tantalus was as strong as any monster I'd ever faced.

"Once upon a time there was a mortal king who was beloved of the Gods!" Tantalus put his hand on his chest, and I got the feeling he was talking about himself.

"This king," he said, "was even allowed to feast on Mount Olympus. But when he tried to take some ambrosia and nectar back to earth to figure out the recipe—just one little doggie bag, mind you—the gods punished him. They banned him from their halls forever! His own people mocked him! His children scolded him! And, oh yes, campers, he had horrible children. Children—just—like— you."

He pointed a crooked finger at several people in the audience.

"Do you know what he did to his ungrateful children?" Tantalus asked softly. "Do you know how he paid back the gods for their cruel punishment? He invited the Olympians to a feast at his palace, just to show there were no hard feelings. No one noticed that his children were missing. And when he served the gods dinner, my dear campers, can you guess what was in the stew?"

No one dared answer. The firelight glowed dark blue, reflecting evilly on Tantalus's crooked face.

"Oh, the gods punished him in the afterlife," Tantalus croaked. "They did indeed. But he'd had his moment of satisfaction, hadn't he? His children never again spoke back to him or questioned his authority. And do you know what? Rumor has it that the king's spirit now dwells at this very camp, waiting for a chance to take revenge on ungrateful, rebellious children. And so... are there any more complaints, before we send Clarisse off on her quest?"

Silence.

Tantalus nodded at Clarisse. "The Oracle, my dear. Go on."

She shifted uncomfortably, like even she didn't want glory at the price of being Tantalus's pet. "Sir—"

"Go!" he snarled.

She bowed awkwardly and hurried off toward the Big House.

"What about you, Percy Jackson?" Tantalus asked. "No comments from our dishwasher?"

"I have something to say," I said, standing up. "Don't think you'll replace Chiron for good, because you won't."

Tantalus sneered at me and I sat back down.

"Good," Tantalus said. "And let me remind everyone— no one leaves this camp without my permission. Anyone who tries... well, if they survive the attempt, they will be expelled forever, but it won't come to that. The harpies will be enforcing curfew from now on, and they are always hungry! Good night, my dear campers. Sleep well."

With a wave of Tantalus's hand, the fire was extinguished, and the campers trailed off toward their cabins in the dark.

The full moon shone through my window. The sound of the surf rumbled in the distance. I could smell the warm scent of the strawberry fields, and hear the laughter of the dryads as they chased owls through the forest. But some-thing felt wrong about the night—the sickness of Thalia's tree, spreading across the valley.

Could Clarisse save Half-Blood Hill? I thought about that all night.


	19. 19

I heard somebody yelling. I quickly got dressed and grabbed Kairos, Amaranthine, and Nikao and ran outside to the direction of the yelling. I quickly realized the yelling belonged to Percy. I saw Annabeth and Tyson running towards him also. Finally we reached him and saw him near the waves.

"What's going on?" Annabeth asked. "I heard you calling for help!"

"Me too!" I said.

"Heard you yell, 'Bad things are attacking!'" Tyson said.

"I didn't call you guys," Percy said. "I'm fine."

"But then who..." Annabeth noticed the four yellow duffel bags, then the thermos and the bottle of vitamins Percy was holding as soon as I did. "What—"

"Just listen," Percy said. "We don't have much time."

Percy told us about his conversation with Hermes. By the time he was finished, I could hear screeching in the distance—patrol harpies picking up our scent.

"Percy," Annabeth said, "we have to do the quest."

"We'll get expelled, you know. Trust me, I'm an expert at getting expelled."

"So? If we fail, there won't be any camp to come back to." I said.

"Yeah, but you promised Chiron—"

"I promised I'd keep you from danger. I can only do that by coming with you!"

"Tyson can stay behind and tell them—" Annabeth said.

"I want to go," Tyson said.

"No!" Annabeth's voice sounded close to panic. "I mean... Percy, come on. You know that's impossible."

We all looked at Percy, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, the cruise ship was getting farther and farther away.

The sound of the harpies was getting closer...

"We can't leave him," Percy decided. "Tantalus will punish him for us being gone."

"Percy," Annabeth said, trying to keep her cool, "we're going to Polyphemus's island! Polyphemus is an S-i-k... a C-y-k..." She stamped her foot in frustration. As smart as she was, Annabeth was dyslexic, too. We could've been there all night while she tried to spell Cyclops. "You know what I mean!"

"Tyson can go," Percy insisted, "if he wants to."

Tyson clapped his hands. "Want to!"

Annabeth gave him the evil eye.

"All right," she said. "How do we get to that ship?"

"Hermes said my father would help."

"Well then, Seaweed Brain? What are you waiting for?"

"Urn, Dad?" Percy called. "How's it going?"

"Percy!" Annabeth whispered. "We're in a hurry!"

"We need your help," Percy called a little louder. "We need to get to that ship, like, before we get eaten and stuff, so..."

At first, nothing happened. Waves crashed against the shore like normal. The harpies sounded like they were right behind the sand dunes. Then, about a hundred yards out to sea, four white lines appeared on the surface. They moved fast toward the shore, like claws ripping through the ocean.

As they neared the beach, the surf burst apart and the heads of four white stallions reared out of the waves.

Tyson caught his breath. "Fish ponies!"

He was right. As the creatures pulled themselves onto the sand, I saw that they were only horses in the front; their back halves were silvery fish bodies, with glistening scales and rainbow tail fins.

"Hippocampi!" Annabeth said. "They're beautiful."

"They are..." I said in awe.

The nearest one whinnied in appreciation and nuzzled Annabeth.

"We'll admire them later," Percy said. "Come on!"

"There!" a voice screeched behind us. "Bad children out of cabins! Snack time for lucky harpies!"

Five of them were fluttering over the top of the dunes—plump little hags with pinched faces and talons and feathery wings too small for their bodies. They weren't very fast, thank the gods, but they were vicious if they caught you.

"Tyson!" Percy said. "Grab a duffel bag!"

He was still staring at the hippocampi with his mouth hanging open, "Tyson!"

"Uh?"

"Come on!"

With Annabeth's help Percy got him moving. We gathered the bags and mounted our steeds. Poseidon must've known Tyson was one of the passengers, because one hippocampus was much larger than the other three—just right for carrying a Cyclops.

"Giddyup!" Percy said. His hippocampus turned and plunged into the waves. Annabeth's, Tyson's, and mine followed right behind.

The harpies cursed at us, wailing for their snacks to come back, but the hippocampi raced over the water at the speed of Jet Skis. The harpies fell behind, and soon the shore of Camp Half-Blood was nothing but a dark smudge. I wondered if I'd ever see the place again. But right then I had other problems.

The cruise ship was now looming in front of us—our ride toward Florida and the Sea of Monsters.

Riding the hippocampus was even easier than riding a pegasus. We zipped along with the wind in our faces, speeding through the waves so smooth and steady I hardly needed to hold on at all.

As we got closer to the cruise ship, I realized just how huge it was. The white hull was at least ten stories tall, topped with another dozen levels of decks with brightly lit balconies and portholes. The ship's name was painted just above the bow line in black letters, lit with a spotlight. It took me a few seconds to decipher it: PRINCESS ANDROMEDA

Attached to the bow was a huge masthead—a three-story-tall woman wearing a white Greek chiton, sculpted to look as if she were chained to the front of the ship. She was young and beautiful, with flowing black hair, but her expression was one of absolute terror. Why anybody would want a screaming princess on the front of their vacation ship, I had no idea.

I remembered the myth about Andromeda and how she had been chained to a rock by her own parents as a sacrifice to a sea monster. Perseus, had saved her just in time and turned the sea monster to stone using the head of Medusa.

"How do we get aboard?" Annabeth shouted over the noise of the waves, but the hippocampi seemed to know what we needed. They skimmed along the starboard side of the ship, riding easily through its huge wake, and pulled up next to a service ladder riveted to the side of the hull.

"You first," I told Annabeth.

She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and grabbed the bottom rung. Once she'd hoisted herself onto the ladder, her hippocampus whinnied a farewell and dove underwater. Annabeth began to climb. I let her get a few rungs up, then followed her. Percy followed behind me.

Finally it was just Tyson in the water. His hippocampus was treating him to 360° aerials and backward ollies, and Tyson was laughing so hysterically, the sound echoed up the side of the ship.

"Tyson, shhh!" Percy said. "Come on, big guy!"

"Can't we take Rainbow?" he asked, his smile fading.

Percy stared at him. "Rainbow?"

The hippocampus whinnied as if he liked his new name.

"Um, we have to go," Percy said. "Rainbow... well, he can't climb ladders."

Tyson sniffled. He buried his face in the hippocampus's mane. "I will miss you, Rainbow!"

The hippocampus made a neighing sound I could've sworn was crying.

"Maybe we'll see him again sometime," I suggested.

"Oh, please!" Tyson said, perking up immediately. "Tomorrow!"

I didn't make any promises, but I finally convinced Tyson to say his farewells and grab hold of the ladder. With a final sad whinny, Rainbow the hippocampus did a back-flip and dove into the sea.

The ladder led to a maintenance deck stacked with yellow lifeboats. There was a set of locked double doors, which Annabeth managed to pry open with her knife and a fair amount of cursing in Ancient Greek.

I figured we'd have to sneak around, being stowaways and all, but after checking a few corridors and peering over a balcony into a huge central promenade lined with closed shops, I began to realize there was nobody to hide from. I mean, sure it was the middle of the night, but we walked half the length of the boat and met no one. We passed forty or fifty cabin doors and heard no sound behind any of them.

"It's a ghost ship," Percy murmured.

"No," Tyson said, fiddling with the strap of his duffel bag. "Bad smell."

Annabeth frowned. "I don't smell anything."

"Cyclopes are like satyrs," I said. "They can smell monsters. Isn't that right, Tyson?"

He nodded nervously. Now that we were away from Camp Half-Blood, the Mist had distorted his face again. Unless I concentrated very hard, it seemed that he had two eyes instead of one.

"Okay," Annabeth said. "So what exactly do you smell?"

"Something bad," Tyson answered.

"Great," Annabeth grumbled. "That clears it up."

We came outside on the swimming pool level. There were rows of empty deck chairs and a bar closed off with a chain curtain. The water in the pool glowed eerily, sloshing back and forth from the motion of the ship.

Above us were more levels—a climbing wall, a putt-putt golf course, a revolving restaurant, but no sign of life.

And yet... I sensed something familiar. Something dangerous. I had the feeling that if I weren't so tired and burned out on adrenaline from our long night, I might be able to put a name to what was wrong.

"We need a hiding place," I said. "Somewhere safe to sleep."

"Sleep," Annabeth agreed wearily.

We explored a few more corridors until we found an empty suite on the ninth level. The door was open, which struck me as weird. There was a basket of chocolate goodies on the table, an iced-down bottle of sparkling cider on the nightstand, and a mint on the pillow with a hand-written note that said: Enjoy your cruise!

We opened our duffel bags for the first time and found that Hermes really had thought of everything—extra clothes, toiletries, camp rations, a Ziploc bag full of cash, a leather pouch full of golden drachmas. He'd even managed to pack Tyson's oilcloth with his tools and metal bits, and Annabeth's cap of invisibility, which made them both feel a lot better.

"I'll be next door," Annabeth said. "You guys don't drink or eat anything."

"You think this place is enchanted?" Percy asked.

She frowned. "I don't know. Something isn't right. Just... be careful."

"Right... I'll be next door too." I left and open the door next to their room. I stepped inside and set my duffel bag down on the couch. I quickly walked to the door and locked it. I opened my duffel bag and changed into my pajamas. I laid down on the bed and fell asleep.

I woke to a ship's whistle and a voice on the intercom— some guy with an Australian accent who sounded way too happy.

"Good morning, passengers! We'll be at sea all day today. Excellent weather for the poolside mambo party! Don't forget million-dollar bingo in the Kraken Lounge at one o'clock, and for our special guests, disemboweling practice on the Promenade!"

I got out of bed and ran to Percy and Tyson's room. I saw Annabeth already there, sticking her head in—her blond hair in a rat's nest. "Disemboweling practice?"

Once we were all dressed, we ventured out into the ship and were surprised to see other people. A dozen senior citizens were heading to breakfast. A dad was taking his kids to the pool for a morning swim. Crew members in crisp white uniforms strolled the deck, tipping their hats to the passengers.

Nobody asked who we were. Nobody paid us much attention. But there was something wrong.

As the family of swimmers passed us, the dad told his kids: "We are on a cruise. We are having fun."

"Yes," his three kids said in unison, their expressions blank. "We are having a blast. We will swim in the pool."

They wandered off.

"Good morning," a crew member told us, his eyes glazed. "We are all enjoying ourselves aboard the Princess Andromeda. Have a nice day." He drifted away.

"Percy, this is weird," Annabeth whispered. "They're all in some kind of trance."

Then we passed a cafeteria and saw our first monster. It was a hellhound—a black mastiff with its front paws up on the buffet line and its muzzle buried in the scrambled eggs. It must've been young, because it was small compared to most—no bigger than a grizzly bear.

The weird thing was: a middle-aged couple was standing in the buffet line right behind the devil dog, patiently waiting their turn for the eggs. They didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

"Not hungry anymore," Tyson murmured.

Before Annabeth, Percy, or I could reply, a reptilian voice came from down the corridor, "Ssssix more joined yesssterday."

Annabeth gestured frantically toward the nearest hiding place—the women's room—and all four of us ducked inside.

Something—or more like two somethings—slithered past the bathroom door, making sounds like sandpaper against the carpet.

"Yesss," a second reptilian voice said. "He drawssss them. Ssssoon we will be sssstrong."

The things slithered into the cafeteria with a cold hissing that might have been snake laughter.

I looked at Percy. "We have to get out of here."

"You think I want to be in the girls' restroom?"

"I mean the ship, Percy! We have to get off the ship."

"Smells bad," Tyson agreed. "And dogs eat all the eggs. Ariana is right. We must leave the restroom and ship."

Then I heard another voice outside—one that chilled me worse than any monster's.

"—only a matter of time. Don't push me, Agrius!"

It was Luke, beyond a doubt. I could never forget his voice.

"I'm not pushing you!" another guy growled. His voice was deeper and even angrier than Luke's. "I'm just saying, if this gamble doesn't pay off—"

"It'll pay off," Luke snapped. "They'll take the bait. Now, come, we've got to get to the admiralty suite and check on the casket."

Their voices receded down the corridor.

Tyson whimpered. "Leave now?"

Annabeth, Percy, and I exchanged looks and came to a silent agreement.

"We can't," Percy told Tyson.

"We have to find out what Luke is up to," I agreed. "And if possible, we're going to beat him up, bind him in chains, and drag him to Mount Olympus."


	20. 20

Annabeth volunteered to go alone since she had the cap of invisibility, but I convinced her it was too dangerous. Either we all went together, or nobody went.

"Nobody!" Tyson voted. "Please?"

But in the end he came along, nervously chewing on his huge fingernails. We stopped at our cabin long enough to gather our stuff. We figured whatever happened, we would not be staying another night aboard the zombie cruise ship, even if they did have million-dollar bingo. I didn't want Tyson to carry everything, but he insisted, and Annabeth told me not to worry about it. Tyson could carry three full duffel bags over his shoulder as easily as I could carry a backpack.

We sneaked through the corridors, following the ship's YOU ARE HERE signs toward the admiralty suite. Annabeth scouted ahead invisibly. We hid whenever someone passed by, but most of the people we saw were just glassy-eyed zombie passengers.

As we came up the stairs to deck thirteen, where the admiralty suite was supposed to be, Annabeth hissed, "Hide!" and shoved us into a supply closet.

I heard a couple of guys coming down the hall. "You see that Aethiopian drakon in the cargo hold?" one of them said.

The other laughed. "Yeah, it's awesome."

Annabeth was still invisible, but she squeezed my arm hard. I recognized a camper's voice, Chris Rodriguez from Cabin Eleven.

"I hear they got two more coming," the familiar voice said. "They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man—no contest!"

The voices faded down the corridor.

"That was Chris Rodriguez!" Annabeth took off her cap and turned visible. "You remember— from Cabin Eleven."

Now that I thought about it, I realized I hadn't seen Chris at camp this summer.

"What's another half-blood doing here?" Percy asked.

Annabeth shook her head, clearly troubled.

We kept going down the corridor. I didn't need maps anymore to know I was getting close to Luke. I sensed something cold and unpleasant—the presence of evil.

"Percy. Ariana." Annabeth stopped suddenly. "Look."

She stood in front of a glass wall looking down into the multistory canyon that ran through the middle of the ship. At the bottom was the Promenade—a mall full of shops— but that's not what had caught Annabeth's attention.

A group of monsters had assembled in front of the candy store: a dozen Laistrygonian giants like the ones who'd attacked Percy with dodge balls, two hellhounds, and a few even stranger creatures—humanoid females with twin serpent tails instead of legs.

"Scythian Dracaenae," Annabeth whispered. "Dragon women."

The monsters made a semicircle around a young guy in Greek armor who was hacking on a straw dummy. A lump formed in my throat when I realized the dummy was wearing an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. As we watched, the guy in armor stabbed the dummy through its belly and ripped upward. Straw flew everywhere. The monsters cheered and howled.

Annabeth stepped away from the window. Her face was ashen.

"Come on," I told her, trying to sound braver than I felt. "The sooner we find Luke the better."

At the end of the hallway were double oak doors that looked like they must lead somewhere important. When we were thirty feet away, Tyson stopped. "Voices inside."

"You can hear that far?" Percy asked. Tyson closed his eye like he was concentrating hard. Then his voice changed, becoming a husky approximation of Luke's. "—the prophecy ourselves. The fools won't know which way to turn."

Before I could react, Tyson's voice changed again, becoming deeper and gruffer, like the other guy we'd heard talking to Luke outside the cafeteria. "You really think the old horseman is gone for good?"

Tyson laughed Luke's laugh. "They can't trust him. Not with the skeletons in his closet. The poisoning of the tree was the final straw."

Annabeth shivered. "Stop that, Tyson! How do you do that? It's creepy."

Tyson opened his eye and looked puzzled. "Just listening."

"Keep going," I said. "What else are they saying?"

Tyson closed his eye again.

He hissed in the gruff man's voice: "Quiet!" Then Luke's voice, whispering: "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Tyson said in the gruff voice. "Right outside."

Too late, I realized what was happening. I just had time to say, "Run!" when the doors of the stateroom burst open and there was Luke, flanked by two hairy giants armed with javelins, their bronze tips aimed right at our chests.

"Well," Luke said with a crooked smile. "If it isn't my two favorite cousins and goddess. Come right in."

***

The stateroom was beautiful, and it was horrible.

The beautiful part: Huge windows curved along the back wall, looking out over the stern of the ship. Green sea and blue sky stretched all the way to the horizon. A Persian rug covered the floor. Two plush sofas occupied the middle of the room, with a canopied bed in one corner and a mahogany dining table in the other. The table was loaded with food—pizza boxes, bottles of soda, and a stack of roast beef sandwiches on a silver platter.

The horrible part: On a velvet dais at the back of the room lay a ten-foot-long golden casket. A sarcophagus, engraved with Ancient Greek scenes of cities in flames and heroes dying grisly deaths. Despite the sunlight streaming through the windows, the casket made the whole room feel cold.

"Well," Luke said, spreading his arms proudly. "A little nicer than Camp Half-Blood, huh?"

He'd changed since the last summer. Instead of Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt, he wore a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and leather loafers. His sandy hair, which used to be so unruly, was now clipped short.

He still had the scar under his eye—a jagged white line from his battle with a dragon. And propped against the sofa was his sword, glinting strangely with its half-steel, half-Celestial bronze blade that could kill both mortals and monsters.

"Sit," he told us. He waved his hand and three dining chairs scooted themselves into the center of the room.

None of us sat.

Luke's large friends were still pointing their javelins at us. They looked like twins, but they weren't human. They stood about eight feet tall, for one thing, and wore only blue jeans, probably because their enormous chests were already shag-carpeted with thick brown fur. They had claws for fingernails, feet like paws. Their noses were snoutlike, and their teeth were all pointed canines.

"Where are my manners?" Luke said smoothly. "These are my assistants, Agrius and Oreius. Perhaps you've heard of them."

I said nothing.

"You don't know Agrius and Oreius's story?" Luke asked. "Their mother... well, it's sad, really. Aphrodite ordered the young woman to fall in love. She refused and ran to Artemis for help. Artemis let her become one of her maiden huntresses, but Aphrodite got her revenge. She bewitched the young woman into falling in love with a bear. When Artemis found out, she abandoned the girl in disgust. Typical of the gods, wouldn't you say? They fight with one another and the poor humans get caught in the middle. The girl's twin sons here, Agrius and Oreius, have no love for Olympus. They like half-bloods well enough, though..."

"For lunch," Agrius growled. His gruff voice was the one I'd heard talking with Luke earlier.

"Hehe! Hehe!" His brother Oreius laughed, licking his fur-lined lips. He kept laughing like he was having an asthmatic fit until Luke and Agrius both stared at him.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Agrius growled. "Go punish yourself!"

Oreius whimpered. He trudged over to the corner of the room, slumped onto a stool, and banged his forehead against the dining table, making the silver plates rattle.

Luke acted like this was perfectly normal behavior. He made himself comfortable on the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Well, Percy, we let you survive another year. I hope you appreciated it. How's your mom? How's school?"

"You poisoned Thalia's tree."

Luke sighed. "Right to the point, eh? Okay, sure I poisoned the tree. So what?"

"How could you?" Annabeth sounded so angry I thought she'd explode. "Thalia saved your life! Our lives! How could you dishonor her—"

"I didn't dishonor her!" Luke snapped. "The gods dishonored her, Annabeth! If Thalia were alive, she'd be on my side."

"Liar!"

"If you knew what was coming, you'd understand—"

"I understand you want to destroy the camp!" she yelled. "You're a monster!"

Luke shook his head. "The gods have blinded you. Can't you imagine a world without them, Annabeth? What good is that ancient history you study? Three thousand years of baggage! The West is rotten to the core. It has to be destroyed. Join me! We can start the world anew. We could use your intelligence, Annabeth."

"Because you have none of your own!"

His eyes narrowed. "I know you, Annabeth. You deserve better than tagging along on some hopeless quest to save the camp. Half-Blood Hill will be overrun by monsters within the month. The heroes who survive will have no choice but to join us or be hunted to extinction. You really want to be on a losing team... with company like this?" Luke pointed at Tyson.

"Hey!" Percy said.

"Traveling with a Cyclops," Luke chided. "Talk about dishonoring Thalia's memory! I'm surprised at you, Annabeth. You of all people—"

"Stop it!" she shouted.

"Leave her alone," Percy said. "And leave Tyson out this."

Luke laughed. "Oh, yeah, I heard. Your father claimed him."

Luke smiled. "Yes, Percy, I know all about that. And about your plan to find the Fleece. What were those coordinates, again... 30, 31, 75, 12? You see, I still have friends at camp who keep me posted."

"Spies, you mean."

He shrugged. "How many insults from your father can you stand, Percy? You think he's grateful to you? You think Poseidon cares for you any more than he cares for this monster?"

Tyson clenched his fists and made a rumbling sound down in his throat.

Luke just chuckled. "The gods are so using you, Percy. Do you have any idea what's in store for you if you reach your sixteenth birthday? Has Chiron even told you the prophecy?"

"I know what I need to know," Percy managed. "Like, who my enemies are."

"Then you're a fool."

Tyson smashed the nearest dining chair to splinters. "Percy is not a fool!"

Before I could stop him, he charged Luke. His fists came down toward Luke's head—a double overhead blow that would've knocked a hole in titanium—but the bear twins intercepted. They each caught one of Tyson's arms and stopped him cold. They pushed him back and Tyson stumbled. He fell to the carpet so hard the deck shook.

"Too bad, Cyclops," Luke said. "Looks like my grizzly friends together are more than a match for your strength. Maybe I should let them—"

"Luke!" I yelled.

He turned to me and smiled. "Ariana... you still have that necklace I gave you."

"I—" Tears started falling down my face.

"Luke," Percy cut in. "Listen to me. Your father sent us."

His face turned red. "Don't—even— mention him."

"He told us to take this boat. I thought it was just for a ride, but he sent us here to find you. He told me he won't give up on you, no matter how angry you are."

"Angry?" Luke roared. "Give up on me? He abandoned me, Percy! I want Olympus destroyed! Every throne crushed to rubble! You tell Hermes it's going to happen, too. Each time a half-blood joins us, the Olympians grow weaker and we grow stronger. He grows stronger." Luke pointed to the gold sarcophagus.

The box creeped me out, but I was determined not to show it.

"So?" Percy demanded. "What's so special..."

Then it hit me, what might be inside the sarcophagus. The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees.

"Whoa, you don't mean—" Percy started. It seemed he figured out too.

"He is reforming," Luke said. "Little by little, we're calling his life force out of the pit. With every recruit who pledges our cause, another small piece appears—"

"That's disgusting!" Annabeth said.

Luke sneered at her. "Your mother was born from Zeus's split skull, Annabeth. I wouldn't talk. Soon there will be enough of the titan lord so that we can make him whole again. We will piece together a new body for him, a work worthy of the forges of Hephaestus."

"You're insane," Annabeth said.

"Join us and you'll be rewarded. We have powerful friends, sponsors rich enough to buy this cruise ship and much more. Percy, your mother will never have to work again. You can buy her a mansion. You can have power, fame—whatever you want. Annabeth, you can realize your dream of being an architect. You can build a monument to last a thousand years. A temple to the lords of the next age! And you... Ariana... you can be my bride."

"Go to Tartarus," I said, wiping away my tears.

Luke sighed. "A shame."

He picked up something that looked like a TV remote and pressed a red button. Within seconds the door of the stateroom opened and two uniformed crew members came in, armed with nightsticks. They had the same glassy-eyed look as the other mortals I'd seen, but I had a feeling this wouldn't make them any less dangerous in a fight.

"Ah, good, security," Luke said, "I'm afraid we have some stowaways."

"Yes, sir," they said dreamily.

Luke turned to Oreius. "It's time to feed the Aethiopian drakon. Take these fools below and show them how it's done."

Oreius grinned stupidly. "Hehe! Hehe!"

"Let me go, too," Agrius grumbled. "My brother is worthless. That Cyclops—"

"Is no threat," Luke said. He glanced back at the golden casket, as if something were troubling him. "Agrius, stay here. We have important matters to discuss."

"But—"

"Oreius, don't fail me. Stay in the hold to make sure the drakon is properly fed."

Oreius prodded us with his javelin and herded us out of the stateroom, followed by the two human security guards.

As I walked down the corridor with Oreius's javelin poking me in the back, I thought about what Luke had said—that the bear twins together were a match for Tyson's strength. But maybe separately...

We exited the corridor amidships and walked across an open deck lined with lifeboats. I knew the ship well enough to realize this would be our last look at sunlight. Once we got to the other side, we'd take the elevator down into the hold, and that would be it.

Percy looked at Tyson and said, "Now."

Thank the gods, he understood. He turned and smacked Oreius thirty feet backward into the swimming pool, right into the middle of the zombie tourist family.

"Ah!" the kids yelled in unison. "We are not having a blast in the pool!"

One of the security guards drew his nightstick, but Annabeth knocked the wind out of him with a well-placed kick. The other guard ran for the nearest alarm box.

"Stop him!" Annabeth yelled, but it was too late.

Just before I banged him on head with a deck chair, he hit the alarm.

Red lights flashed. Sirens wailed.

"Lifeboat!" I yelled.

We ran for the nearest one.

By the time we got the cover off, monsters and more security men were swarming the deck, pushing aside tourists and waiters with trays of tropical drinks. A guy in Greek armor drew his sword and charged, but slipped in a puddle of piña colada. Laistrygonian archers assembled on the deck above us, notching arrows in their enormous bows.

"How do you launch this thing?" screamed Annabeth.

A hellhound leaped at me, but Tyson slammed it aside with a fire extinguisher.

"Get in!" I yelled. I uncapped Nikao and slashed the first volley of arrows out of the air. Any second we would be overwhelmed.

The lifeboat was hanging over the side of the ship, high above the water. Annabeth and Tyson were having no luck with the release pulley.

Percy pushed me inside the lifeboat and then jumped in beside us.

"Hold on!" Percy yelled, and he cut the ropes.

A shower of arrows whistled over our heads as we free-fell toward the ocean.


	21. 21

"Thermos!" Percy screamed as we hurtled toward the water.

"What?" I asked.

But Tyson seemed to understand. He managed to open Percy's duffel bag and take out Hermes's magical thermos without losing his grip on it or the boat.

Arrows and javelins whistled past us.

Percy grabbed the thermos. "Hang on!"

"I am hanging on!" Annabeth yelled.

"Tighter!"

I hooked my feet under the boat's inflatable bench, and as Tyson grabbed Annabeth, Percy, and me by the backs of our shirts, Percy gave the thermos cap a quarter turn.

Instantly, a white sheet of wind jetted out of the thermos and propelled us sideways, turning our downward plummet into a forty-five-degree crash landing.

The wind seemed to laugh as it shot from the thermos, like it was glad to be free. As we hit the ocean, we bumped once, twice, skipping like a stone, then we were whizzing along like a speed boat, salt spray in our faces and nothing but sea ahead.

I heard a wail of outrage from the ship behind us, but we were already out of weapon range. The Princess Andromeda faded to the size of a white toy boat in the distance, and then it was gone.

As we raced over the sea, Annabeth, Percy, and I tried to send an Iris-message to Chiron. We figured it was important we let somebody know what Luke was doing, and we didn't know who else to trust.

The wind from the thermos stirred up a nice sea spray that made a rainbow in the sunlight— perfect for an Iris-message—but our connection was still poor. When Annabeth threw a gold drachma into the mist and prayed for the rainbow goddess to show us Chiron, his face appeared all right, but there was some kind of weird strobe light flashing in the background and rock music blaring, like he was at a dance club.

We told him about sneaking away from camp, and Luke and the Princess Andromeda and the golden box for Kronos's remains, but between the noise on his end and the rushing wind and water on our end, I'm not sure how much he heard.

"Percy," Chiron yelled, "you have to watch out for—"

His voice was drowned out by loud shouting behind him—a bunch of voices whooping it up like Comanche warriors.

"What?" Percy yelled.

"Curse my relatives!" Chiron ducked as a plate flew over his head and shattered somewhere out of sight. "Annabeth, Ariana, you shouldn't have let Percy leave camp! But if you do get the Fleece—"

"Yeah, baby!" somebody behind Chiron yelled. "Woo-hoooooo!"

The music got cranked up, subwoofers so loud it made our boat vibrate.

"—Miami," Chiron was yelling. "I'll try to keep watch—"

Our misty screen smashed apart like someone on the other side had thrown a bottle at it, and Chiron was gone.

An hour later we spotted land—a long stretch of beach lined with high-rise hotels. The water became crowded with fishing boats and tankers. A coast guard cruiser passed on our starboard side, then turned like it wanted a second look. I guess it isn't every day they see a yellow lifeboat with no engine going a hundred knots an hour, manned by four kids.

"That's Virginia Beach!" Annabeth said as we approached the shoreline. "Oh my gods, how did the Princess Andromeda travel so far overnight? That's like—"

"Five hundred and thirty nautical miles," Percy said.

"How did you know that?"

"I—I'm not sure."

Annabeth thought for a moment. "Percy, what's our position?"

"36 degrees, 44 minutes north, 76 degrees, 2 minutes west," Percy said immediately. Then he shook his head. "Whoa. How did I know that?"

"Because of your dad," Annabeth guessed. "When you're at sea, you have perfect bearings. That is so cool."

Tyson tapped Percy's shoulder. "Other boat is coming."

I looked back. The coast guard vessel was definitely on our tail now. Its lights were flashing and it was gaining speed.

"We can't let them catch us," I said. "They'll ask too many questions."

"Keep going into Chesapeake Bay," Annabeth said. "I know a place we can hide."

I didn't ask what she meant, or how she knew the area so well. Percy loosened the thermos cap a little more, and a fresh burst of wind sent us rocketing around the northern tip of Virginia Beach into Chesapeake Bay. The coast guard boat fell farther and farther behind. We didn't slow down until the shores of the bay narrowed on either side, and I realized we'd entered the mouth of a river.

I could feel the change from salt water to fresh water.

"There," Annabeth said. "Past that sandbar."

We veered into a swampy area choked with marsh grass. I beached the lifeboat at the foot of a giant cypress.

Vine-covered trees loomed above us. Insects chirred in the woods. The air was muggy and hot, and steam curled off the river.

"Come on," Annabeth said. "It's just down the bank."

"What is?" Percy asked.

"Just follow." She grabbed a duffel bag. "And we'd better cover the boat. We don't want to draw attention."

After burying the lifeboat with branches, Tyson, Percy, and I followed Annabeth along the shore, our feet sinking in red mud. A snake slithered past my shoe and disappeared into the grass.

"Not a good place," Tyson said. He swatted the mosquitoes that were forming a buffet line on his arm.

After another few minutes, Annabeth said, "Here."

All I saw was a patch of brambles. Then Annabeth moved aside a woven circle of branches, like a door, and I realized I was looking into a camouflaged shelter.

The inside was big enough for four, even with Tyson being the fourth. The walls were woven from plant material, like a Native American hut, but they looked pretty water-proof. Stacked in the corner was everything you could want for a camp out—sleeping bags, blankets, an ice chest, and a kerosene lamp. There were demigod provisions, too— bronze javelin tips, a quiver full of arrows, an extra sword, and a box of ambrosia. The place smelled musty, like it had been vacant for a long time.

"A half-blood hideout." I looked at Annabeth in awe. "You made this place?"

"Thalia and I," she said quietly. "And Luke."

"So..." I said. "You don't think Luke will look for us here?"

She shook her head. "We made a dozen safe houses like this. I doubt Luke even remembers where they are. Or cares."

She threw herself down on the blankets and started going through her duffel bag. Her body language made it pretty clear she didn't want to talk.

"Um, Tyson?" Percy said. "Would you mind scouting around outside? Like, look for a wilderness convenience store or something?"

"Convenience store?"

"Yeah, for snacks. Powdered donuts or something. Just don't go too far."

"Powdered donuts," Tyson said earnestly. "I will look for powdered donuts in the wilderness." He headed outside and started calling, "Here, donuts!"

Once he was gone, Percy and I sat down across from Annabeth. "Hey, I'm sorry about, you know, seeing Luke."

"It's not your fault." She unsheathed her knife and started cleaning the blade with a rag.

"He let us go too easily," I said.

I hoped I'd been imagining it, but Annabeth nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. What we overheard him say about a gamble, and 'they'll take the bait'... I think he was talking about us."

"The Fleece is the bait? Or Grover?"

She studied the edge of her knife. "I don't know. Maybe he wants the Fleece for himself. Maybe he's hoping we'll do the hard work and then he can steal it from us. I just can't believe he would poison the tree."

"What did he mean," Percy asked, "that Thalia would've been on his side?"

"He's wrong."

"You don't sound sure." Annabeth glared at Percy.

"Percy, you know who you remind me of most? Thalia. You guys are so much alike it's scary. I mean, either you would've been best friends or you would've strangled each other."

"Let's go with 'best friends.'"

"Thalia got angry with her dad sometimes. So do you. Would you turn against Olympus because of that?"

"No."

"Okay, then. Neither would she. Luke's wrong."

Annabeth stuck her knife blade into the dirt.

"So what did Luke mean about Cyclopes?" Percy asked. "He said you of all people—"

"I know what he said. He... he was talking about the real reason Thalia died."

I waited, not sure what to say.

Annabeth drew a shaky breath. "You can never trust a Cyclops, Percy. Six years ago, on the night Grover was leading us to Half-Blood Hill—"

She was interrupted when the door of the hut creaked open. Tyson crawled in.

"Powdered donuts!" he said proudly, holding up a pastry box.

Annabeth stared at him. "Where did you get that? We're in the middle of the wilderness. There's nothing around for—"

"Fifty feet," Tyson said. "Monster Donut shop—just over the hill!"

"This is bad," Annabeth muttered.

We were crouching behind a tree, staring at the donut shop in the middle of the woods. It looked brand new, with brightly lit windows, a parking area, and a little road leading off into the forest, but there was nothing else around, and no cars parked in the lot. We could see one employee reading a magazine behind the cash register. That was it. On the store's marquis, in huge black letters that even I could read, it said:

MONSTER DONUT

A cartoon ogre was taking a bite out of the O in MONSTER. The place smelled good.

"This shouldn't be here," Annabeth whispered. "It's wrong."

"What?" Percy asked. "It's a donut shop."

"Shhh!"

"Why are we whispering? Tyson went in and bought a dozen. Nothing happened to him."

"He's a monster."

"Aw, c'mon, Annabeth. Monster Donut doesn't mean monsters! It's a chain. We've got them in New York."

"A chain," she agreed. "And don't you think it's strange that one appeared immediately after you told Tyson to get donuts? Right here in the middle of the woods?"

"It could be a nest," Annabeth explained.

Tyson whimpered. I doubt he understood what Annabeth was saying, but her tone was making him nervous. He'd plowed through half a dozen donuts from his box and was getting powdered sugar all over his face.

"A nest for what?" Percy asked.

"Haven't you ever wondered how franchise stores pop up so fast?" she asked. "One day there's nothing and then the next day—boom, there's a new burger place or a coffee shop or whatever? First a single store, then two, then four— exact replicas spreading across the country?"

"Um, no. Never thought about it."

"Percy, some of the chains multiply so fast because all their locations are magically linked to the life force of a monster. Some children of Hermes figured out how to do it back in the 1950s. They breed—"

She froze.

"What?" Percy demanded. "They breed what?"

"No—sudden—moves," Annabeth said, like her life depended on it. "Very slowly, turn around."

Then I heard it: a scraping noise, like something large dragging its belly through the leaves.

I turned and saw a rhino-size thing moving through the shadows of the trees. It was hissing, its front half writhing in all different directions. I couldn't understand what I was seeing at first. Then I realized the thing had multiple necks—at least seven, each topped with a hissing reptilian head. Its skin was leathery, and under each neck it wore a plastic bib that read: I'm A MONSTER DONUT KID!

Percy took out his ballpoint pen, but Annabeth locked eyes with him—a silent warning. Not yet.

A lot of monsters have terrible eyesight. It was possible the Hydra might pass us by. But if he uncapped his sword now, the bronze glow would certainly get its attention.

We waited.

The Hydra was only a few feet away. It seemed to be sniffing the ground and the trees like it was hunting for something. Then I noticed that two of the heads were ripping apart a piece of yellow canvas—one of our duffel bags. The thing had already been to our campsite. It was following our scent.

My heart pounded. The hydra's heads were diamond-shaped, like a rattlesnake's, but the mouths were lined with jagged rows of shark like teeth.

Tyson was trembling. He stepped back and accidentally snapped a twig. Immediately, all seven heads turned toward us and hissed.

"Scatter!" Annabeth yelled. She dove to the right.

I rolled with Percy to the left. One of the Hydra heads spat an arc of green liquid that shot past my shoulder and splashed against an elm. The trunk smoked and began to disintegrate. The whole tree toppled straight toward Tyson, who still hadn't moved, petrified by the monster that was now right in front of him.

"Tyson!" Percy tackled him, knocking him aside just as the Hydra lunged and the tree crashed on top of two of its heads.

The Hydra stumbled backward, yanking its heads free then wailing in outrage at the fallen tree. All seven heads shot acid, and the elm melted into a steaming pool of muck.

"Move!" Percy told Tyson.

He ran to one side and uncapped his sword.

The sight of celestial bronze is hateful to most monsters. As soon as his glowing blade appeared, the Hydra whipped toward it with all its heads, hissing and baring its teeth.

The good news: Tyson was momentarily out of danger. The bad news: Percy was about to be melted into a puddle of goo.

One of the heads snapped at me experimentally. Percy swung his sword.

"No!" I yelled.

Too late. He sliced the Hydra's head clean off. It rolled away into the grass, leaving a flailing stump, which immediately stopped bleeding and began to swell like a balloon.

In a matter of seconds the wounded neck split into two necks, each of which grew a full-size head. Now I was looking at an eight-headed Hydra.

"Percy!" Annabeth scolded. "You just opened another Monster Donut shop somewhere!"

Percy dodged a spray of acid. "I'm about to die and you're worried about that? How do we kill it?"

"Fire!" I said. "We have to have fire!"

The Hydra's heads would only stop multiplying if we burned the stumps before they regrew. That's what Heracles had done, anyway. But we had no fire.

Percy backed up toward river. The Hydra followed.

Annabeth moved in on his left and tried to distract one of the heads, parrying its teeth with her knife, but another head swung sideways like a club and knocked her into the muck. I ran towards her and helped her onto her feet.

"No hitting my friends!" Tyson charged in, putting himself between the Hydra and Annabeth. As Annabeth got to her feet, Tyson started smashing at the monster heads with his fists so fast it reminded me of the whack-a-mole game at the arcade. But even Tyson couldn't fend off the Hydra forever.

We kept inching backward, dodging acid splashes and deflecting snapping heads without cutting them off, but I knew we were only postponing our deaths. Eventually, we would make a mistake and the thing would kill us.

Then I heard a strange sound—a chug-chug-chug that at first I thought was my heartbeat. It was so powerful it made the riverbank shake.

"What's that noise?" Annabeth shouted, keeping her eyes on the Hydra.

"Steam engine," Tyson said.

"What?" I ducked as the Hydra spat acid over my head.

Then from the river behind us, a familiar female voice shouted: "There! Prepare the thirtytwo-pounder!"

I didn't dare look away from the Hydra, but if that was who I thought it was behind us, I figured we now had enemies on two fronts.

A gravelly male voice said, "They're too close, m'lady!"

"Damn the heroes!" the girl said. "Full steam ahead!"

"Aye, m'lady."

"Fire at will, Captain!"

Annabeth understood what was happening a split second before I did. She yelled, "Hit the dirt!" and we dove for the ground as an earth-shattering BOOM echoed from the river. There was a flash of light, a column of smoke, and the Hydra exploded right in front of us, showering us with nasty green slime that vaporized as soon as it hit, the way monster guts tend to do.

"Gross!" screamed Annabeth.

"Steamship!" yelled Tyson.

I stood, coughing from the cloud of gunpowder smoke that was rolling across the banks.

Chugging toward us down the river was the strangest ship I'd ever seen. It rode low in the water like a submarine, its deck plated with iron. In the middle was a trapezoid-shaped case mate with slats on each side for cannons. A flag waved from the top—a wild boar and spear on a blood red field. Lining the deck were zombies in gray uniforms— dead soldiers with shimmering faces that only partially covered their skulls, like the ghouls I'd seen in the Underworld guarding Hades's palace.

The ship was an ironclad. A Civil War battle cruiser. I could just make out the name along the prow in moss-covered letters: CSS Birmingham.

And standing next to the smoking cannon that had almost killed us, wearing full Greek battle armor, was Clarisse.

"Losers," she sneered. "But I suppose I have to rescue you. Come aboard."


	22. 22

"You are in so much trouble," Clarisse said.

We'd just finished a ship tour we didn't want, through dark rooms overcrowded with dead sailors. We'd seen the coal bunker, the boilers and engine, which huffed and groaned like it would explode any minute. We'd seen the pilothouse and the powder magazine and gunnery deck (Clarisse's favorite) with two Dahlgren smooth bore cannons on the port and starboard sides and a Brooke nine-inch rifled gun fore and aft—all specially refitted to fire celestial bronze cannon balls.

Everywhere we went, dead Confederate sailors stared at us, their ghostly bearded faces shimmering over their skulls. They approved of Annabeth because she told them she was from Virginia. They loved me because they knew who I was. They were interested in Percy, too, because his name was Jackson—like the Southern general—but then he ruined it by telling them he was from New York. They all hissed and muttered curses about Yankees.

Tyson was terrified of them. All through the tour, he insisted Annabeth hold his hand, which she didn't look too thrilled about.

Finally, we were escorted to dinner. The CSS Birmingham captain's quarters were about the size of a walk-in closet, but still much bigger than any other room on board. The table was set with white linen and china. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, and Dr Peppers were served by skeletal crewmen. I didn't want to eat anything served by ghosts, but my hunger overruled my fear.

"Tantalus expelled you for eternity," Clarisse told us smugly. "Mr. D said if any of you show your face at camp again, he'll turn you into squirrels and run you over with his SUV."

"Did they give you this ship?" Percy asked.

"'Course not. My father did."

"Ares?"

Clarisse sneered. "You think your daddy is the only one with sea power? The spirits on the losing side of every war owe a tribute to Ares. That's their curse for being defeated. I prayed to my father for a naval transport and here it is. These guys will do anything I tell them. Won't you, Captain?"

The captain stood behind her looking stiff and angry. His glowing green eyes fixed Percy with a hungry stare. "If it means an end to this infernal war, ma'am, peace at last, we'll do anything. Destroy anyone."

Clarisse smiled. "Destroy anyone. I like that."

 

Tyson gulped.

 

"Clarisse," Annabeth said, "Luke might be after the Fleece, too. We saw him. He's got the coordinates and he's heading south. He has a cruise ship full of monsters—"

 

"Good! I'll blow him out of the water."

 

"You don't understand," Annabeth said. "We have to combine forces. Let us help you—"

 

"No!" Clarisse pounded the table. "This is my quest, smart girl! Finally I get to be the hero, and you three will not steal my chance."

 

"Where are your cabin mates?" Percy asked. "You were allowed to take two friends with you, weren't you?"

 

"They didn't... I let them stay behind. To protect the camp."

 

"You mean even the people in your own cabin wouldn't help you?"

 

"Shut up, Prissy! I don't need them! Or you!"

 

"Clarisse," I said, "Tantalus is using you. He doesn't care about the camp. He'd love to see it destroyed. He's setting you up to fail."

 

"No! I don't care what the Oracle—" She stopped herself.

 

"What?" I said. "What did the Oracle tell you?"

 

"Nothing." Clarisse's ears turned pink. "All you need to know is that I'm finishing this quest and you're not helping. On the other hand, I can't let you go..."

 

"So we're prisoners?" Annabeth asked.

 

"Guests. For now." Clarisse propped her feet up on the white linen tablecloth and opened another Dr Pepper. "Captain, take them below. Assign them hammocks on the berth deck. If they don't mind their manners, show them how we deal with enemy spies."

 

I fell asleep almost instantly after the crazy day I had. I had no dreams, which was very odd, but I decided to enjoy it for now.

 

I woke to alarm bells ringing throughout the ship.

 

The captain's gravelly voice: "All hands on deck! Find Lady Clarisse! Where is that girl?"

 

Then his ghostly face appeared above me. "Get up, Lady Ariana. I already woke up the Yankee and your other friends are already upstairs. We are approaching the entrance."

 

"The entrance to what?"

 

He gave me a skeletal smile. "The Sea of Monsters, of course."

 

I stuffed my few belongings that had survived the Hydra into a sailor's canvas knapsack and slung it over my shoulder. I had a sneaking suspicion that one way or another I would not be spending another night aboard the CSS Birmingham. I made my way upstairs and waited for Percy to get ready, mentally rolling my eyes at him for taking so long.

 

Eventually Percy came walking, but I could clearly see something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" I asked him. "Another dream?"

 

He nodded, but he didn't say anything.

 

Clarisse came up the stairs right after Percy.

 

She grabbed a pair of binoculars from a zombie officer and peered toward the horizon. "At last. Captain, full steam ahead!"

 

I looked in the same direction as she was, but I couldn't see much. The sky was overcast. The air was hazy and humid, like steam from an iron. If I squinted real hard, I could just make out a couple of dark fuzzy splotches in the distance.

 

The engine groaned as we increased speed.

 

Tyson muttered nervously, "Too much strain on the pistons. Not meant for deep water."

 

I wasn't sure how he knew that, but it made me nervous.

 

After a few more minutes, the dark splotches ahead of us came into focus. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea—an island with cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass.

 

"Hurricane?" Annabeth asked.

 

"No," Clarisse said. "Charybdis."

 

"Are you crazy?" I said, my eyes widening.

 

"Only way into the Sea of Monsters. Straight between Charybdis and her sister Scylla." Clarisse pointed to the top of the cliffs.

 

"What do you mean the only way?" Percy asked. "The sea is wide open! Just sail around them."

 

Clarisse rolled her eyes. "Don't you know anything? If I tried to sail around them, they would just appear in my path again. If you want to get into the Sea of Monsters, you have to sail through them."

 

"What about the Clashing Rocks?" I said. "That's another gateway. Jason used it."

 

"I can't blow apart rocks with my cannons," Clarisse said. "Monsters, on the other hand..."

 

"You are crazy," Annabeth decided.

 

"Watch and learn, Wise Girl." Clarisse turned to the captain. "Set course for Charybdis!"

 

"Aye, m'lady." The engine groaned, the iron plating rattled, and the ship began to pick up speed.

 

"Clarisse," Percy said, "Charybdis sucks up the sea. Isn't that the story?"

 

"And spits it back out again, yeah."

 

"What about Scylla?"

 

"She lives in a cave, up on those cliffs. If we get too close, her snaky heads will come down and start plucking sailors off the ship."

 

"Choose Scylla then," Percy said. "Everybody goes below deck and we chug right past."

 

"No!" Clarisse insisted. "If Scylla doesn't get her easy meat, she might pick up the whole ship. Besides, she's too high to make a good target. My cannons can't shoot straight up. Charybdis just sits there at the center of her whirlwind. We're going to steam straight toward her, train our guns on her, and blow her to Tartarus!"

 

The engine hummed. The boilers were heating up so much I could feel the deck getting warm beneath my feet. The smokestacks billowed. The red Ares flag whipped in the wind.

 

As we got closer to the monsters, the sound of Charybdis got louder and louder—a horrible wet roar like the galaxy's biggest toilet being flushed. Every time Charybdis inhaled, the ship shuddered and lurched forward. Every time she exhaled, we rose in the water and were buffeted by ten-foot waves.

 

I tried to time the whirlpool. As near as I could figure, it took Charybdis about three minutes to suck up and destroy everything within a half-mile radius. To avoid her, we would have to skirt right next to Scylla's cliffs.

 

Undead sailors calmly went about their business on the spar deck. Apparently they didn't care about getting destroyed because they were already deceased.

 

Annabeth stood next to Percy and me, gripping the rail. "You still have your thermos full of wind?"

 

Percy nodded. "But it's too dangerous to use with a whirlpool like that. More wind might just make things worse."

 

"What about controlling the water?" she asked. "You're Poseidon's son. You've done it before."

 

She was right. He closed his eyes and tried to calm the sea, but it didn't work. Charybdis was too loud and powerful. The waves wouldn't respond.

 

"I—I can't," Percy said miserably.

 

"We need a backup plan," Annabeth said. "This isn't going to work."

 

"Annabeth is right," Tyson said. "Engine's no good."

 

"What do you mean?" she asked.

 

"Pressure. Pistons need fixing."

 

Before he could explain, the cosmic toilet flushed with a mighty roaaar! The ship lurched forward and I was thrown to the deck. We were in the whirlpool.

 

"Full reverse!" Clarisse screamed above the noise. The sea churned around us, waves crashing over the deck. The iron plating was now so hot it steamed. "Get us within firing range! Make ready starboard cannons!"

 

Dead Confederates rushed back and forth. The propeller grinded into reverse, trying to slow the ship, but we kept sliding toward the center of the vortex.

 

A zombie sailor burst out of the hold and ran to Clarisse. His gray uniform was smoking. His beard was on fire. "Boiler room overheating, ma'am! She's going to blow!"

 

"Well, get down there and fix it!"

 

"Can't!" the sailor yelled. "We're vaporizing in the heat."

 

Clarisse pounded the side of the casemate. "All I need is a few more minutes! Just enough to get in range!"

 

"We're going in too fast," the captain said grimly. "Prepare yourself for death."

 

"No!" Tyson bellowed. "I can fix it."

 

Clarisse looked at him incredulously. "You?"

 

"He's a Cyclops," Annabeth said. "He's immune to fire. And he knows mechanics."

 

"Go!" yelled Clarisse.

 

"Tyson, no!" Percy and I yelled at the same time.

 

I grabbed his arm. "It's too dangerous!"

 

He patted my hand. "Only way, Lady Ariana." His expression was determined—confident, even. I'd never seen him look like this before. "I will fix it. Be right back."

 

As I watched him follow the smoldering sailor down the hatch, I had a terrible feeling. I wanted to run after him, but the ship lurched again—and then I saw Charybdis.

 

She appeared only a few hundred yards away, through a swirl of mist and smoke and water. The first thing I noticed was the reef—a black crag of coral with a fig tree clinging to the top, an oddly peaceful thing in the middle of a maelstrom. All around it, water curved into a funnel, like light around a black hole. Then I saw the horrible thing anchored to the reef just below the waterline—an enormous mouth with slimy lips and mossy teeth the size of rowboats. And worse, the teeth had braces, bands of corroded scummy metal with pieces of fish and driftwood and floating garbage stuck between them.

 

Charybdis was nothing but a huge black maw with bad teeth alignment and a serious overbite, and she'd done nothing for centuries but eat without brushing after meals. As I watched, the entire sea around her was sucked into the void— sharks, schools of fish, a giant squid. And I realized that in a few seconds, the CSS Birmingham would be next.

 

"Lady Clarisse," the captain shouted. "Starboard and forward guns are in range!"

 

"Fire!" Clarisse ordered.

 

Three rounds were blasted into the monster's maw. One blew off the edge of an incisor. Another disappeared into her gullet. The third hit one of Charybdis's retaining bands and shot back at us, snapping the Ares flag off its pole.

 

"Again!" Clarisse ordered. The gunners reloaded, but I knew it was hopeless. We would have to pound the monster a hundred more times to do any real damage, and we didn't have that long. We were being sucked in too fast.  
Then the vibrations in the deck changed. The hum of the engine got stronger and steadier. The ship shuddered and we started pulling away from the mouth.

 

"Tyson did it!" I said.

 

"Wait!" Clarisse said. "We need to stay close!"

 

"We'll die!" Percy said. "We have to move away."

 

I gripped the rail as the ship fought against the suction. The broken Ares flag raced past us and lodged in Charybdis's braces. We weren't making much progress, but at least we were holding our own. Tyson had somehow given us just enough juice to keep the ship from being sucked in.

 

Suddenly, the mouth snapped shut. The sea died to absolute calm. Water washed over Charybdis.  
Then, just as quickly as it had closed, the mouth exploded open, spitting out a wall of water, ejecting every-thing inedible, including our cannonballs, one of which slammed into the side of the CSS Birmingham with a ding like the bell on a carnival game.

 

We were thrown backward on a wave that must've been forty feet high. I had to hold in a scream and use all of my willpower to keep the ship from capsizing, but we were still spinning out of control, hurtling toward the cliffs on the opposite side of the strait.

 

Another smoldering sailor burst out of the hold. He stumbled into Clarisse, almost knocking them both overboard. "The engine is about to blow!"

 

"Where's Tyson?" I demanded.

 

"Still down there," the sailor said. "Holding it together somehow, though I don't know for how much longer."

 

The captain said, "We have to abandon ship."

 

"No!" Clarisse yelled.

 

"We have no choice, m'lady. The hull is already cracking apart! She can't—"

 

He never finished his sentence. Quick as lightning, something brown and green shot from the sky, snatched up the captain, and lifted him away. All that was left were his leather boots.

 

"Scylla!" a sailor yelled, as another column of reptilian flesh shot from the cliffs and snapped him up. It happened so fast it was like watching a laser beam rather than a monster. I couldn't even make out the thing's face, just a flash of teeth and scales.

 

Percy uncapped his sword and tried to swipe at the monster as it carried off another deckhand, but he was way too slow.

 

"Everyone get below!" Percy yelled.

 

"We can't!" Clarisse drew her own sword. "Below deck is in flames."

 

"Lifeboats!" Annabeth said. "Quick!"

 

"They'll never get clear of the cliffs," Clarisse said. "We'll all be eaten."

 

"We have to try. Percy, the thermos. Ariana, get ready."

 

"I can't leave Tyson!" I yelled.

 

"We have to get the boats ready!"

 

Clarisse took Annabeth's command. She and a few of her undead sailors uncovered one of the two emergency rowboats while Scylla's heads rained from the sky like a meteor shower with teeth, picking off Confederate sailors one after another.

 

"Get the other boat." Percy threw Annabeth the thermos.

 

"I'll get Tyson." I said.

 

"You can't!" she said. "The heat will kill you!"

 

I didn't listen. I ran for the boiler room hatch, when suddenly my feet weren't touching the deck anymore. I was flying straight up, the wind whistling in my ears, the side of the cliff only inches from my face.

 

Scylla had somehow caught me by the knapsack, and was lifting me up toward her lair. Without thinking, I grabbed Kairos and managed to jab the thing in her beady yellow eye. She grunted and dropped me.

 

The fall would've been bad enough, considering I was a hundred feet in the air. But as I fell, the CSS Birmingham exploded below me.

 

KAROOM!

 

The engine room blew, sending chunks of ironclad flying in either direction like a fiery set of wings.

 

"Tyson!" I screamed, probably loud enough for everyone to hear. Tears stung my eyes.

 

The lifeboats had managed to get away from the ship, but not very far. Flaming wreckage was raining down. Clarisse, Annabeth, and Percy would either be smashed or burned or pulled to the bottom by the force of the sinking hull, and that was thinking optimistically, assuming they got away from Scylla.

 

Then I heard a different kind of explosion—the sound of Hermes's magic thermos being opened a little too far. White sheets of wind blasted in every direction, scattering the lifeboats, lifting me out of my free fall and propelling me across the ocean.

 

I couldn't see anything. I spun in the air, got clonked on the head by something hard, and hit the water with a crash that would've broken every bone in my body if I hadn't been a goddess.

 

The last thing I remembered was sinking in a burning sea, knowing that Tyson was gone forever, and screaming.


	23. 23

I woke up in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of gray uniform fabric. Annabeth sat next to me, tacking into the wind.

 

I tried to sit up and immediately felt woozy.

 

"Rest," she said. "You're going to need it."

 

"Tyson... ? What happened?"

 

She shook her head. "I'm really sorry."

 

We were silent while the waves tossed us up and down.

 

"He may have survived," she said halfheartedly. "I mean, fire can't kill him."

 

I nodded, but I had no reason to feel hopeful. I'd seen that explosion rip through solid iron. If Tyson had been down in the boiler room, there was no way he could've lived.

 

He'd given his life for us. Percy looked like he was going to cry.

 

Waves lapped at the boat. Annabeth showed me some things she'd salvaged from the wreckage—Hermes's thermos (now empty), a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia, a couple of sailors' shirts, and a bottle of Dr Pepper. She'd fished me out of the water and found my knapsack, bitten in half by Scylla's teeth. Most of my stuff had floated away, but I still had Hermes's bottle of multivitamins, a few pieces of clothing, and Kairos, Amaranthine, and Nikao.

 

We sailed for hours. Now that we were in the Sea of Monsters, the water glittered a more brilliant green, like Hydra acid. The wind smelled fresh and salty, but it carried a strange metallic scent, too—as if a thunderstorm were coming. Or something even more dangerous.

 

No matter which way we turned, the sun seemed to shine straight into my eyes. We talked about Percy's latest dream of Grover.

 

By Annabeth's estimate, we had less than twenty-four hours to find Grover, assuming his dream was accurate, and assuming the Cyclops Polyphemus didn't change his mind and try to marry Grover earlier.

 

"Yeah," Percy said bitterly. "You can never trust a Cyclops."

 

Annabeth stared across the water. "I'm sorry, Percy. I was wrong about Tyson, okay? I wish I could tell him that."

I looked down at our measly possessions—the empty wind thermos, the bottle of multivitamins, and my clothes. I thought about Luke's look of rage.

 

"Annabeth, what's Chiron's prophecy?" Percy asked.

 

My head shot up, leaning in a bit, interested.

 

She pursed her lips. "Percy, I shouldn't—"

 

"I know Chiron promised the gods he wouldn't tell me. But you didn't promise, did you?"

 

"Knowledge isn't always good for you."

 

"Your mom is the wisdom goddess!"

 

"I know! But every time heroes learn the future, they try to change it, and it never works."

 

"The gods are worried about something I'll do when I get older," Percy guessed. "Something when I turn sixteen."

 

Annabeth twisted her Yankees cap in her hands. "Percy, I don't know the full prophecy, but it warns about a half-blood child of the Big Three—the next one who lives to the age of sixteen. That's the real reason Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades swore a pact after World War II not to have any more kids. The next child of the Big Three who reaches sixteen will be a dangerous weapon."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because that hero will decide the fate of Olympus. He or she will make a decision that either saves the Age of the Gods, or destroys it."

 

"That's why Kronos didn't kill me last summer."

 

She nodded. "You could be very useful to him. If he can get you on his side, the gods will be in serious trouble."

 

"But if it's me in the prophecy—"

 

"We'll only know that if you survive three more years. That can be a long time for a halfblood. When Chiron first learned about Thalia, he assumed she was the one in the prophecy. That's why he was so desperate to get her safely to camp. Then she went down fighting and got turned into a pine tree and none of us knew what to think. Until you came along."

 

On our port side, a spiky green dorsal fin about fifteen feet long curled out of the water and disappeared.

 

"This kid in the prophecy... he or she couldn't be like, a Cyclops?" Percy asked. "The Big Three have lots of monster children."

 

Annabeth shook her head. "The Oracle said 'half-blood.' That always means half-human, halfgod. There's really nobody alive who it could be, except you."

 

"Then why do the gods even let me live? It would be safer to kill me."

 

"You're right."

 

"Thanks a lot."

 

"Percy, I don't know. I guess some of the gods would like to kill you, but they're probably afraid of offending Poseidon. Other gods... maybe they're still watching you, trying to decide what kind of hero you're going be. You could be a weapon for their survival, after all. The real question is... what will you do in three years? What decision will you make?"

 

"Did the prophecy give any hints?"

 

Annabeth hesitated.

 

Just then a sea-gull swooped down out of nowhere and landed on our makeshift mast. Annabeth looked startled as the bird dropped a small cluster of leaves into her lap.

 

"Land," she said. "There's land nearby!"

 

I sat up. Sure enough, there was a line of blue and brown in the distance. Another minute and I could make out an island with a small mountain in the center, a dazzling white collection of buildings, a beach dotted with palm trees, and a harbor filled with a strange assortment of boats.

 

The current was pulling our rowboat toward what looked like a tropical paradise.

 

"Welcome!" said the lady with the clipboard.

 

She looked like a flight attendant—blue business suit, perfect makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She shook our hands as we stepped onto the dock. With the dazzling smile she gave us, you would've thought we'd just gotten off the Princess Andromeda rather than a banged up rowboat.

 

Then again, our rowboat wasn't the weirdest ship in port. Along with a bunch of pleasure yachts, there was a U.S. Navy submarine, several dugout canoes, and an old-fashioned three masted sailing ship. There was a helipad with a "Channel Five Fort Lauderdale" helicopter on it, and a short runway with a Learjet and a propeller plane that looked like a World War II fighter. Maybe they were replicas for tourists to look at or something.

 

"Is this your first time with us?" the clipboard lady inquired.

 

Annabeth, Percy, and I exchanged looks. Annabeth said, "Umm..."

 

"First—time—at—spa," the lady said as she wrote on her clipboard. "Let's see..."

 

She looked us up and down critically. "Mmm. An herbal wrap to start for the young ladies. And of course, a complete makeover for the young gentleman."

 

"A what?" Percy asked.

 

She was too busy jotting down notes to answer.

 

"Right!" She said with a breezy smile. "Well, I'm sure C.C. will want to speak with you personally before the luau. Come, please."

 

Now here's the thing. Annabeth, Percy, and I were used to traps, and usually those traps looked good at first. So I expected the clipboard lady to turn into a snake or a demon, or something, any minute. But on the other hand, we'd been floating in a rowboat for most of the day. I was hot, tired, and hungry.

 

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Annabeth muttered.

 

Of course it could, but we followed the lady anyway. I kept my arms around my packed clothes— but the farther we wandered into the resort, the more I forgot about them.

 

The place was amazing. There was white marble and blue water everywhere I looked. Terraces climbed up the side of the mountain, with swimming pools on every level, connected by watersides and waterfalls and underwater tubes you could swim through. Fountains sprayed water into the air, forming impossible shapes, like flying eagles and galloping horses.

 

Tyson loved horses, and I knew he'd love those fountains. I almost turned around to see the expression on his face before I remembered: Tyson was gone.

 

"You okay?" Annabeth asked me. "You look pale."

 

"I'm okay," I lied. "Just... let's keep walking."

 

We passed all kinds of tame animals. A sea turtle napped in a stack of beach towels. A leopard stretched out asleep on the diving board. The resort guests—only young women, as far as I could see—lounged in deck chairs, drinking fruit smoothies or reading magazines while herbal gunk dried on their faces and manicurists in white uniforms did their nails.

 

As we headed up a staircase toward what looked like the main building, I heard a woman singing. Her voice drifted through the air like a lullaby. Her words were in some language other than Ancient Greek, but just as old—Minoan, maybe, or something like that. I could understand what she sang about—moonlight in the olive groves, the colors of the sunrise. And magic. Something about magic.

 

We came into a big room where the whole front wall was windows. The back wall was covered in mirrors, so the room seemed to go on forever. There was a bunch of expensive looking white furniture, and on a table in one corner was a large wire pet cage. The cage seemed out of place, but I didn't think about it too much.  
The lady who was singing sat at a loom the size of a big screen TV, her hands weaving colored thread back and forth with amazing skill. The tapestry shimmered like it was three dimensional—a waterfall scene so real I could see the water moving and clouds drifting across a fabric sky.

 

Annabeth caught her breath. "It's beautiful."

 

The woman turned. She was even prettier than her fabric. Her long dark hair was braided with threads of gold. She had piercing green eyes and she wore a silky black dress with shapes that seemed to move in the fabric: animal shadows, black upon black, like deer running through a forest at night.

 

"You appreciate weaving, my dear?" the woman asked.

 

"Oh, yes, ma'am!" Annabeth said. "My mother is—"

 

She stopped herself. You couldn't just go around announcing that your mom was Athena, the goddess who invented the loom. Most people would lock you in a rubber room.

 

Our hostess just smiled. "You have good taste, my dear. I'm so glad you've come." She looked over at me. "Oh and aren't you just beautiful! My name is C.C."

 

The animals in the corner cage started squealing. They must've been guinea pigs, from the sound of them.

 

We introduced ourselves to C.C. She looked Percy over with a twinge of disapproval, as if he'd failed some kind of test.

 

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "You do need my help."

 

"Ma'am?" Percy asked.

 

C.C. called to the lady in the business suit. "Hylla, take Annabeth and Ariana on a tour, will you? Show them what we have available. The clothing will need to change. And the hair, my goodness. We will do a full image consultation after I've spoken with this young gentleman."

 

"But..." Annabeth's voice sounded hurt. "What's wrong with my hair?"

 

"Yeah, I thought you said I was beautiful," I said, disappointed.

 

C.C. smiled benevolently. "My dears, you are lovely. Really! But Annabeth, you're not showing off yourself or your talents at all. So much wasted potential!"

 

"Wasted?" Annabeth asked.

 

"Well, surely you're not happy the way you are! My goodness, there's not a single person who is. But don't worry. We can improve anyone here at the spa. Hylla will show you what I mean. You, my dear, need to unlock your true self!"

 

Annabeth's eyes glowed with longing.

 

"But... what about Percy?" I asked.

 

"Oh, definitely," C.C. said, giving him a sad look. "Percy requires my personal attention. He needs much more work than you."

The guinea pigs squealed like they were hungry.

 

"Well..." I said. "I suppose..."

 

"Right this way, dears," Hylla said. And Annabeth and I allowed ourselves to be led away into the waterfall-laced gardens of the spa.

 

Hylla gave us a tour and then allowed us to get our hair and makeup done by women who admired our beauty. She also allowed us to choose amore formal and beautiful outfits.

 

When we were finished, we decided to go see Percy. Annabeth and I walked to where we were before.

 

"I'd suggest you—" I heard C.C. say.

 

Annabeth's called: "Miss C.C.?"

 

Annabeth and I came in.

 

I looked around the room and frowned. "Where's Percy?"

 

C.C. smiled. "He's having one of our treatments, my dear. Not to worry. You both look wonderful! What did you think of your tour?"

 

Annabeth's eyes brightened. "Your library is amazing!"

 

"Yes, indeed," C.C. said, "The best knowledge of the past three millennia. Anything you want to study, anything you want to be, my dear."

 

"An architect?"

 

"Pah!" C.C. said. "You, my dear, have the makings of a sorceress. Like me."

 

Annabeth took a step back. "A sorceress?"

 

"Yes, my dear." C.C. held up her hand. A flame appeared in her palm and danced across her fingertips. "My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. I know a daughter of Athena when I see one. We are not so different, you and I. We both seek knowledge. We both admire greatness. Neither of us needs to stand in the shadow of men."

 

"I—I don't understand."

 

"Stay with me," C.C. was telling Annabeth. "Study with me. You can join our staff, become a sorceress, learn to bend others to your will. You will become immortal!"

 

"But—"

 

"You are too intelligent, my dear," C.C. said. "You know better than to trust that silly camp for heroes. How many great female half-blood heroes can you name?"

 

"Um, Atalanta, Amelia Earhart—"

 

"Bah! Men get all the glory." C.C. closed her fist and extinguished the magic flame. "The only way to power for women is sorcery. Medea, Calypso, and even you Ariana, now there were powerful women! And me, of course. The greatest of all."

 

"You... C.C... Circe!"

 

"Yes, my dear."

 

Annabeth and I backed up, and Circe laughed. "You need not worry. I mean you no harm."

 

"What have you done to Percy?" I worried.

 

"Only helped him realize his true form."

 

Annabeth and I scanned the room. Finally we saw the cage, and Percy scratching at the bars, all the other guinea pigs crowding around him. My eyes went wide.

 

"Forget him," Circe said. "Join me and learn the ways of sorcery."

 

"But—"

 

"Your friend will be well cared for. He'll be shipped to a wonderful new home on the mainland. The kindergartners will adore him. Meanwhile, you will be wise and powerful. You will have all you ever wanted."

 

Annabeth and I were still staring at Percy. Percy squealed and scratched, trying to warn me about something.

 

"Let us think about it," Annabeth murmured. "Just... give us a minute alone. To say goodbye."

 

"Of course, my dears," Circe cooed. "One minute. Oh... and so you have absolute privacy..." She waved her hand and iron bars slammed down over the windows. She swept out of the room and I heard the locks on the door click shut behind her.

I rushed over to the cage. "All right, which one is you?"

 

All the guinea pigs squealed. I scanned the room and spotted the cuff of Percy's jeans sticking out from under the loom.

 

I rushed over and rummaged through his pockets. But instead of bringing out his sword, I found the bottle of Hermes multivitamins and started struggling with the cap.

 

I popped a lemon chewable in my mouth just as the door flew open and Circe came back in, flanked by two of her business-suited attendants. I handed Annabeth one too.

 

"Well," Circe sighed, "how fast a minute passes. What is your answer, my dear?"

 

"This," Annabeth said, and she drew her bronze knife.

 

The sorceress stepped back, but her surprise quickly passed. She sneered. "Really, little girl, a knife against my magic? Is that wise?"

 

Circe looked back at her attendants, who smiled. They raised their hands as if preparing to cast a spell.

 

"What will Annabeth's makeover be?" Circe mused. "Something small and ill-tempered. I know... a shrew!"

 

Blue fire coiled from her fingers curling like serpents around Annabeth.

 

Nothing happened. Annabeth was still Annabeth, only angrier. She leaped forward and stuck the point of her knife against Circe's neck. "How about turning me into a panther instead? One that has her claws at your throat!"

 

"How!" Circe yelped.

 

I held up Percy's bottle of vitamins for the sorceress to see.

 

Circe howled in frustration. "Curse Hermes and his multivitamins! Those are such a fad! They do nothing for you."

 

"Turn Percy back to a human or else!" I said.

 

"I can't!"

 

"Then you asked for it."

 

Circe's attendants stepped forward, but their mistress said, "Get back! She's immune to magic until that cursed vitamin wears off."

 

Annabeth dragged Circe over to the guinea pig cage, knocked the top off, and poured the rest of the vitamins inside.

 

"No!" Circe screamed.

 

Bang! The cage exploded. Percy was sitting on the floor, a human again, with six other guys who all looked disoriented, blinking and shaking wood shavings out of their hair.

 

"No!" Circe screamed. "You don't understand! Those are the worst!"

 

One of the men stood up—a huge guy with a long tangled pitch-black beard and teeth the same color. He wore mismatched clothes of wool and leather, knee-length boots, and a floppy felt hat. The other men were dressed more simply—in breeches and stained white shirts. All of them were barefoot.

 

"Argggh!" bellowed the big man. "What's the witch done t'me!"

 

"No!" Circe moaned.

 

Annabeth gasped. "I recognize you! Edward Teach, son of Ares?"

 

"Aye, lass," the big man growled. "Though most call me Blackbeard! And there's the sorceress what captured us, lads. Run her through, and then I mean to find me a big bowl of celery! Arggggh!"

 

Circe screamed. She and her attendants ran from the room, chased by the pirates.

 

Annabeth sheathed her knife and glared at Percy.

 

"Thanks..." Percy faltered. "I'm really sorry—"

 

Before he could figure out how to apologize for being such an idiot, I tackled him with a hug. I pulled away.

 

"I'm glad you're not a guinea pig." I said, smiling.

 

"Me, too."

 

Annabeth undid the golden braids in her hair.

 

"Come on," she said. "We have to get away while Circe's distracted."

 

We ran down the hillside through the terraces, past screaming spa workers and pirates ransacking the resort. Blackbeard's men broke the tiki torches for the luau, threw herbal wraps into the swimming pool, and kicked over tables of sauna towels.

 

I almost felt bad letting the unruly pirates out, but I guessed they deserved something more entertaining than the exercise wheel after being cooped up in a cage for three centuries.

 

"Which ship?" Annabeth said as we reached the docks.

 

I looked around desperately. We couldn't very well take our rowboat. We had to get off the island fast, but what else could we use? A sub? A fighter jet? None of us could pilot any of those things. And then I saw it.

 

"There," Percy said.

 

Annabeth blinked. "But—"

 

"I can make it work."

 

"How?"

 

Percy grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the three-mast ship. Painted on its prow was the name that I would only decipher later: Queen Anne's Revenge.

 

"Argggh!" Blackbeard yelled somewhere behind us. "Those scalawags are boarding me vessel! Get 'em, lads!"

 

"We'll never get going in time!" Annabeth yelled as we climbed aboard.

 

I looked around at the hopeless maze of sail and ropes. The ship was in great condition for a three-hundred-year-old vessel, but it would still take a crew of fifty several hours to get underway. We didn't have several hours. I could see the pirates running down the stairs, waving tiki torches and sticks of celery.

 

Percy closed his eyes. "Mizzenmast!" he yelled.

 

I looked at him like he was nuts, but in the next second, the air was filled with whistling sounds of ropes being snapped taut, canvases unfurling, and wooden pulleys creaking.

 

Annabeth ducked as a cable flew over her head and wrapped itself around the bowsprit. "Percy, how..."

 

The Queen Anne's Revenge lurched away from the dock, and by the time the pirates arrived at the water's edge, we were already underway, sailing into the Sea of Monsters.


	24. 24

We plowed through the waves at what I figured was about ten knots. I even understood how fast that was. For a sailing ship, pretty darn fast.

 

It all felt perfect—the wind in my face, the waves breaking over the prow.

 

But now that we were out of danger, all I could think about was how much I missed Tyson, and how worried I was about Grover.

 

We sailed through the night, but didn't know what happened because I fell asleep, guilt gnawing at my conscience.

 

I woke up a few hours later and got dressed. I walked upstairs to find Percy and Annabeth staring at something behind me. I turned and saw the home of the Cyclops.

 

When you think "monster island," you think craggy rocks and bones scattered on the beach like the island of the Sirens.

 

The Cyclops's island was nothing like that. I mean, okay, it had a rope bridge across a chasm, which was not a good sign. You might as well put up a billboard that said, SOMETHING EVIL LIVES HERE. But except for that, the place looked like a Caribbean postcard. It had green fields and tropical fruit trees and white beaches. As we sailed toward the shore, Annabeth breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," she said.

 

I nodded. I couldn't see the Fleece yet, but I could feel its power. I could believe it would heal anything, even Thalia's poisoned tree.

 

"If we take it away, will the island die?" Percy asked.

 

Annabeth shook her head. "It'll fade. Go back to what it would be normally, whatever that is."

 

I felt a little guilty about ruining this paradise, but I reminded myself we had no choice. Camp Half-Blood was in trouble. And Tyson... Tyson would still be with us if it wasn't for this quest.

 

In the meadow at the base of the ravine, several dozen sheep were milling around. They looked peaceful enough, but they were huge—the size of hippos. Just past them was a path that led up into the hills. At the top of the path, near the edge of the canyon, was a massive oak tree. Something gold glittered in its branches.

 

"This is too easy," Percy said. "We could just hike up there and take it?"

 

My eyes narrowed. "There's supposed be a guardian. A dragon or..."

 

That's when a deer emerged from the bushes. It trotted into the meadow, probably looking for grass to eat, when the sheep all bleated at once and rushed the animal. It happened so fast that the deer stumbled and was lost in a sea of wool and trampling hooves.

 

Grass and tufts of fur flew into the air.

 

A second later the sheep all moved away, back to their regular peaceful wanderings. Where the deer had been was a pile of clean white bones.

 

Annabeth and I exchanged looks.

 

"They're like piranhas," she said. "Piranhas with wool. How will we—"

 

"Look!" Annabeth gasped.

 

She pointed down the beach, to just below the sheep meadow, where a small boat had been run aground ... the other lifeboat from the CSS Birmingham.

 

We decided there was no way we could get past the man-eating sheep. Annabeth wanted to sneak up the path invisibly and grab the Fleece, but in the end Percy and I convinced her that something would go wrong. The sheep would smell her. Another guardian would appear. Something. And if that happened, we'd be too far away to help.  
Besides, our first job was to find Grover and whoever had come ashore in that lifeboat— assuming they'd gotten past the sheep. I was too nervous to say what I was secretly hoping ... that Tyson might still be alive.  
We moored the Queen Anne's Revenge on the back side of the island where the cliffs rose straight up a good two hundred feet. I figured the ship was less likely to be seen there. The cliffs looked climbable, barely—about as difficult as the lava wall back at camp. At least it was free of sheep. I hoped that Polyphemus did not also keep carnivorous mountain goats.

 

We rowed a lifeboat to the edge of the rocks and made our way up, very slowly. Annabeth went first because she was the better climber.

 

I went second because hopefully I'd be able to help if something went wrong.

 

We only came close to dying six or seven times, which I thought was pretty good. Once, I lost my grip and I found myself dangling by one hand from a ledge fifty feet above the rocky surf. But I found another handhold and kept climbing. A minute later Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against.

 

Finally, when my fingers felt like molten lead and my arm muscles were shaking from exhaustion, we hauled ourselves over the top of the cliff and collapsed.

 

"Ugh," I said.

 

"Ouch," moaned Annabeth.

 

"Garrr!" bellowed another voice.

 

If I hadn't been so tired, I would've leaped another two hundred feet. I whirled around, but I couldn't see who'd spoken.

 

Annabeth clamped her hand over my mouth. She pointed. The ledge we were sitting on was narrower than I'd realized. It dropped off on the opposite side, and that's where the voice was coming from—right below us.

 

"You're a feisty one!" the deep voice bellowed.

 

"Challenge me!" Clarisse's voice, no doubt about it. "Give me back my sword and I'll fight you!"

 

The monster roared with laughter.

 

Annabeth, Percy, and I crept to the edge. We were right above the entrance of the Cyclops's cave. Below us stood Polyphemus and Grover, still in his wedding dress. Clarisse was tied up, hanging upside down over a pot of boiling water. I was half hoping to see Tyson down there, too. Even if he'd been in danger, at least I would've known he was alive. But there was no sign of him.

 

"Hmm," Polyphemus pondered. "Eat loudmouth girl now or wait for wedding feast? What does my bride think?"

 

He turned to Grover, who backed up and almost tripped over his completed bridal train. "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"

 

"Did you say bride?" Clarisse demanded. "Who— Grover?"

 

I muttered, "Shut up. She has to shut up."

 

Polyphemus glowered. "What 'Grover'?"

 

"The satyr!" Clarisse yelled.

 

"Oh!" Grover yelped. "The poor thing's brain is boiling from that hot water. Pull her down, dear!"

 

Polyphemus's eyelids narrowed over his baleful milky eye, as if he were trying to see Clarisse more clearly.  
The Cyclops was an even more horrible sight than he had been in my dreams. Partly because his rancid smell was now up close and personal. Partly because he was dressed in his wedding outfit—a crude kilt and shoulder-wrap, stitched together from baby-blue tuxedos, as if the he'd skinned an entire wedding party.

 

"What satyr?" asked Polyphemus. "Satyrs are good eating. You bring me a satyr?"

 

"No, you big idiot!" bellowed Clarisse. "That satyr! Grover! The one in the wedding dress!"

 

I wanted to wring Clarisse's neck, but it was too late. All I could do was watch as Polyphemus turned and ripped off Grover's wedding veil—revealing his curly hair, his scruffy adolescent beard, his tiny horns.

 

Polyphemus breathed heavily, trying to contain his anger. "I don't see very well," he growled. "Not since many years ago when the other hero stabbed me in eye. But YOU'RE—NO— LADY—CYCLOPS!"

 

The Cyclops grabbed Grover's dress and tore it away. Underneath, the old Grover reappeared in his jeans and T-shirt. He yelped and ducked as the monster swiped over his head.

 

"Stop!" Grover pleaded. "Don't eat me raw! I—I have a good recipe!"

 

Percy reached for his sword, but I hissed, "Wait!"

 

Polyphemus was hesitating, a boulder in his hand, ready to smash his would-be bride.

 

"Recipe?" he asked Grover.

 

"Oh y-yes! You don't want to eat me raw. You'll get E coli and botulism and all sorts of horrible things. I'll taste much better grilled over a slow fire. With mango chutney! You could go get some mangos right now, down there in the woods. I'll just wait here."

 

The monster pondered this. My heart hammered against my ribs. I couldn't let the monster kill Grover.

 

"Grilled satyr with mango chutney," Polyphemus mused. He looked back at Clarisse, still hanging over the pot of boiling water. "You a satyr, too?"

 

"No, you overgrown pile of dung!" she yelled. "I'm a girl! The daughter of Ares! Now untie me so I can rip your arms off!"

 

"Rip my arms off," Polyphemus repeated.

 

"And stuff them down your throat!"

 

"You got spunk."

 

"Let me down!"

 

Polyphemus snatched up Grover as if he were a wayward puppy. "Have to graze sheep now. Wedding postponed until tonight. Then we'll eat satyr for the main course!"

 

"But... you're still getting married?" Grover sounded hurt. "Who's the bride?"

 

Polyphemus looked toward the boiling pot. Clarisse made a strangled sound.

 

"Oh, no! You can't be serious. I'm not—"

 

Before Annabeth, Percy, or I could do anything, Polyphemus plucked her off the rope like she was a ripe apple, and tossed her and Grover deep into the cave. "Make yourself comfortable! I come back at sundown for big event!"  
Then the Cyclops whistled, and a mixed flock of goats and sheep—smaller than the man eaters—flooded out of the cave and past their master. As they went to pasture, Polyphemus patted some on the back and called them by name—Beltbuster, Tammany, Lockhart, etc.

 

When the last sheep had waddled out, Polyphemus rolled a boulder in front of the doorway as easily as I would close a refrigerator door, shutting off the sound of Clarisse and Grover screaming inside.

 

"Mangos," Polyphemus grumbled to himself. "What are mangos?"

 

He strolled off down the mountain in his baby-blue groom's outfit, leaving us alone with a pot of boiling water and a six-ton boulder.

 

We tried for what seemed like hours, but it was no good. The boulder wouldn't move. We yelled into the cracks, tapped on the rock, did everything we could think of to get a signal to Grover, but if he heard us, we couldn't tell.  
Even if by some miracle we managed to kill Polyphemus, it wouldn't do us any good. Grover and Clarisse would die inside that sealed cave. The only way to move the rock was to have the Cyclops do it.

 

Percy stabbed Riptide against the boulder. Sparks flew, but nothing else happened. A large rock is not the kind of enemy you can fight with a magic sword.

 

Annabeth, Percy, and I sat on the ridge in despair and watched the distant baby-blue shape of the Cyclops as he moved among his flocks. He had wisely divided his regular animals from his man-eating sheep, putting each group on either side of the huge crevice that divided the island. The only way across was the rope bridge, and the planks were much too far apart for sheep hooves.

 

We watched as Polyphemus visited his carnivorous flock on the far side. Unfortunately, they didn't eat him. In fact, they didn't seem to bother him at all. He fed them chunks of mystery meat from a great wicker basket.

 

"Trickery," Annabeth decided. "We can't beat him by force, so we'll have to use trickery."

 

"Okay," Percy said. "What trick?"

 

"I haven't figured that part out yet."

"Polyphemus will have to move the rock to let the sheep inside."

 

"At sunset," Percy said. "Which is when he'll marry Clarisse and have Grover for dinner. I'm not sure which is grosser."

 

"I could get inside," she said, "invisibly."

 

"What about Percy?" I asked.

 

"The sheep," Annabeth mused. She gave Percy one of those sly looks. "How much do you like sheep?"

I walked invisibly with Annabeth inside of the cave.

 

I could see the last of the sheep coming inside. If Annabeth didn't pull off her distraction soon...

 

The Cyclops was about to roll the stone back into place, when from somewhere outside Annabeth shouted, "Hello, ugly!"

 

Polyphemus stiffened. "Who said that?"

 

"Nobody!" Annabeth yelled.

 

That got exactly the reaction she'd been hoping for. The monster's face turned red with rage.

 

"Nobody!" Polyphemus yelled back. "I remember you!"

 

"You're too stupid to remember anybody," Annabeth taunted. "Much less Nobody."

 

I hoped to the gods she was already moving when she said that, because Polyphemus bellowed furiously, grabbed the nearest boulder (which happened to be his front door) and threw it toward the sound of Annabeth's voice. I heard the rock smash into a thousand fragments.

 

For a terrible moment, there was silence. Then Annabeth shouted, "You haven't learned to throw any better, either!"

 

Polyphemus howled. "Come here! Let me kill you, Nobody!"

 

"You can't kill Nobody, you stupid oaf," she taunted. "Come find me!"

 

Polyphemus barreled down the hill toward her voice.

 

Now, the "Nobody" thing wouldn't have made sense to anybody, but I remembered that it was the name Odysseus had used to trick Polyphemus centuries ago, right before he poked the Cyclops's eye out with a large hot stick. Annabeth had figured Polyphemus would still have a grudge about that name, and she was right. In his frenzy to find his old enemy, he forgot about resealing the cave entrance. Apparently, he didn't even stop to consider that Annabeth's voice was female, whereas the first Nobody had been male. On the other hand, he'd wanted to marry Grover, so he couldn't have been all that bright about the whole male/female thing.

 

I just hoped Annabeth could stay alive and keep distracting him long enough for Percy and I to find Grover and Clarisse.

I searched the main room, but there was no sign of Grover or Clarisse. Percy joined me as I pushed through the crowd of sheep and goats toward the back of the cave.

 

Percy and I had a hard time finding my way through the maze. We ran down corridors littered with bones, past rooms full of sheepskin rugs and life-size cement sheep that I recognized as the work of Medusa. There were collections of sheep T-shirts; large tubs of lanolin cream; and woolly coats, socks, and hats with ram's horns. Finally, we found the spinning room, where Grover was huddled in the corner, trying to cut Clarisse's bonds with a pair of safety scissors.

 

"It's no good," Clarisse said. "This rope is like iron!"

 

"Just a few more minutes!"

 

"Grover," she cried, exasperated. "You've been working at it for hours!"

 

And then they saw us.

 

"Percy? Ariana?" Clarisse said. "You're supposed to be blown up!"

 

"Good to see you, too. Now hold still while I—" I started.

 

"Perrrrrcy!" Grover bleated and tackled him with a goat-hug. "You heard me! You came!"

 

"Yeah, buddy," Percy said. "Of course I came."

 

"Where's Annabeth?"

 

"Outside," I said. "But there's no time to talk. Clarisse, hold still."

 

I uncapped Kairos and sliced off her ropes. She stood stiffly, rubbing her wrists. She glared at me for a moment, then looked at the ground and mumbled, "Thanks."

 

"You're welcome," I said. "Now, was anyone else on board your lifeboat?"

 

Clarisse looked surprised. "No. Just me. Everybody else aboard the Birmingham... well, I didn't even know you guys made it out."

 

I looked down, trying not to believe that my last hope of seeing Tyson alive had just been crushed. "Okay. Come on, then. We have to help—"

 

An explosion echoed through the cave, followed by a scream that told me we might be too late. It was Annabeth crying out in fear.


	25. 25

"I got Nobody!" Polyphemus gloated.

 

We crept to the cave entrance and saw the Cyclops, grinning wickedly, holding up empty air. The monster shook his fist, and a baseball cap fluttered to the ground. There was Annabeth, hanging upside down by her legs.

 

"Hah!" the Cyclops said. "Nasty invisible girl! Already got feisty one for wife. Means you gotta be grilled with mango chutney!"

 

Annabeth struggled, but she looked dazed. She had a nasty cut on her forehead. Her eyes were glassy.

 

"I'll rush him," Percy whispered to Clarisse and I. "Our ship is around the back of the island. You three—"

 

"No way," we said at the same time. Clarisse had armed herself with a highly collectible rams-horn spear from the Cyclops's cave. Grover had found a sheep's thigh bone, which he didn't look too happy about, but he was gripping it like a club, ready to attack.

 

"We'll take him together," Clarisse growled.

 

"Yeah," Grover said. Then he blinked, like he couldn't believe he'd just agreed with Clarisse about something.

 

"All right," Percy said. "Attack plan Macedonia."

 

We nodded. We'd all taken the same training courses at Camp Half-Blood. We knew what he was talking about. We would sneak around either side and attack the Cyclops from the flanks while Percy held his attention in the front.

 

Percy hefted his sword and shouted, "Hey, Ugly!"

 

The giant whirled toward him. "Another one? Who are you?"

 

"Put down my friend. I'm the one who insulted you."

 

"You are Nobody?"

 

"That's right, you smelly bucket of nose drool!" It didn't sound quite as good as Annabeth's insults. "I'm Nobody and I'm proud of it! Now, put her down and get over here. I want to stab your eye out again."

 

"RAAAR!" he bellowed.

 

The good news: he dropped Annabeth. The bad news: he dropped her headfirst onto the rocks, where she lay motionless as a rag doll.

 

The other bad news: Polyphemus barreled toward Percy, a thousand smelly pounds of Cyclops that he would have to fight with a very small sword.

 

"For Pan!" Grover rushed in from the right. He threw his sheep bone, which bounced harmlessly off the monster's forehead. Clarisse ran in from the left and set her spear against the ground just in time for the Cyclops to step on it. He wailed in pain, and Clarisse dove out of the way to avoid getting trampled. But the Cyclops just plucked out the shaft like a large splinter and kept advancing on me. Percy moved in with Riptide. The monster made a grab for him.  
I stopped watching the fight and rushed over to Annabeth. I struggled to lift her and carry her across the rope bridge.

 

"Help Ariana!" Percy yelled at Grover.

 

He rushed over, grabbed her invisibility cap, and picked her up while Clarisse and Percy tried to keep Polyphemus distracted.

 

"Fall back!" Percy yelled to Clarisse.

 

I grunted as Grover helped me to carry Annabeth.

 

Grover and I had just made it to the other side and was setting Annabeth down. Percy and Clarisse had to make it across, too, before the giant caught them.

 

"Grover!" I yelled. "Get Annabeth's knife!"

 

His eyes widened when he saw the Cyclops behind them, but he nodded like he understood. As Percy and Clarisse scrambled across the bridge, I grabbed Amaranthine and Grover and I began sawing at the ropes.

 

The first strand went snap!

 

Polyphemus bounded after us, making the bridge sway wildly.

 

The ropes were now half cut. Clarisse and Percy dove for solid ground, landing beside Grover. Percy made a wild slash with his sword and cut the remaining ropes.

 

The bridge fell away into the chasm, and the Cyclops howled... with delight, because he was standing right next to us.

 

"Failed!" he yelled gleefully. "Nobody failed!"

 

Clarisse and Grover tried to charge him, but the monster swatted them aside like flies.

 

My anger swelled. I couldn't believe I'd come this far, lost my friend Tyson, suffered through so much, only to fail—stopped by a big stupid monster in a baby-blue tuxedo kilt. I glared at the monster as I tried to help Annabeth.  
Percy raised his sword and attacked, forgetting that he was hopelessly outmatched. He jabbed the Cyclops in the belly. When he doubled over he smacked him in the nose with the hilt of his sword. He slashed and kicked and bashed until the next thing I knew, Polyphemus was sprawled on his back, dazed and groaning, and Percy was standing above him, the tip of his sword hovering over his eye.

 

"Uhhhhhhhh," Polyphemus moaned.

 

"Percy!" Grover gasped. "How did you—"

 

"Please, noooo!" the Cyclops moaned, pitifully staring up. His nose was bleeding. A tear welled in the corner of his half-blind eye. "M-m-my sheepies need me. Only trying to protect my sheep!"

 

He began to sob.

 

"Kill him!" Clarisse yelled. "What are you waiting for?"

 

My hands shook as I quickly tended to Annabeth. I had to make sure she was alright. I wasn't even paying attention. My focus was fully on my hurt friend.

 

The Cyclops sounded so heartbroken, just like... like Tyson.

 

"He's a Cyclops!" Grover warned. "Don't trust him!"

 

I knew he was right. I knew Annabeth would've said the same thing.

 

"We only want the Fleece," Percy told the monster. "Will you agree to let us take it?"

 

"No!" Clarisse shouted. "Kill him!"

 

The monster sniffed. "My beautiful Fleece. Prize of my collection. Take it, cruel human. Take it and go in peace."

 

"I'm going to step back slowly," Percy told the monster. "One false move..."

 

I looked up just in time.

 

Polyphemus nodded like he understood. Percy stepped back... and as fast as a cobra, Polyphemus smacked him to the edge of the cliff.

 

"Foolish mortal!" he bellowed, rising to his feet. "Take my Fleece? Ha! I eat you first."

 

"No!" I screamed, tears filling my eyes.

 

He opened his enormous mouth.

 

Then something went whoosh over my head and thump! A rock the size of a basketball sailed into Polyphemus's throat—a beautiful three-pointer, nothing but net. The Cyclops choked, trying to swallow the unexpected pill. He staggered backward, but there was no place to stagger. His heel slipped, the edge of the cliff crumbled, and the great Polyphemus made chicken wing motions that did nothing to help him fly as he tumbled into the chasm.  
I turned.

 

Halfway down the path to the beach, standing completely unharmed in the midst of a flock of killer sheep, was an old friend.

 

"Bad Polyphemus," Tyson said. "Not all Cyclopes as nice as we look."

 

Tyson gave us the short version: Rainbow the hippocampus—who'd apparently been following us ever since the Long Island Sound, waiting for Tyson to play with him—had found Tyson sinking beneath the wreckage of the CSS Birmingham and pulled him to safety. He and Tyson had been searching the Sea of Monsters ever since, trying to find us, until Tyson caught the scent of sheep and found this island.

 

I wanted to hug the big oaf, except he was standing in the middle of killer sheep. "Tyson, thank the gods. Annabeth is hurt!"

 

"You thank the gods she is hurt?" he asked, puzzled.

 

"No!" I looked at Annabeth. Percy knelt down beside her. The gash on her forehead was worse than I'd realized. Her hairline was sticky with blood. Her skin was pale and clammy.

 

Grover and I exchanged nervous looks. Then an idea came to me. "Tyson, the Fleece. Can you get it for me?"

 

"Which one?" Tyson said, looking around at the hundreds of sheep.

 

"In the tree!" I said. "The gold one!"

 

"Oh. Pretty. Yes."

 

Tyson lumbered over, careful not to step on the sheep. If any of us had tried to approach the Fleece, we would've been eaten alive, but I guess Tyson smelled like Polyphemus, because the flock didn't bother him at all. They just cuddled up to him and bleated affectionately, as though they expected to get sheep treats from the big wicker basket. Tyson reached up and lifted the Fleece off its branch. Immediately the leaves on the oak tree turned yellow. Tyson started wading back toward me, but I yelled, "No time! Throw it!"

 

The gold ram skin sailed through the air like a glittering shag Frisbee. I caught it with a grunt. It was heavier than I'd expected—sixty or seventy pounds of precious gold wool.

 

I spread it over Annabeth, covering everything but her face, and prayed silently to all my parents.

 

Please. Please.

 

The color returned to her face. Her eyelids fluttered open. The cut on her forehead began to close. She saw Grover and said weakly, "You're not... married?"

 

Grover grinned. "No. My friends talked me out of it."

 

"Annabeth," I said, "just lay still."

 

But despite our protests she sat up, and I noticed that the cut on her face was almost completely healed. She looked a lot better. In fact, she shimmered with health, as if someone had injected her with glitter.

 

Meanwhile, Tyson was starting to have trouble with the sheep. "Down!" he told them as they tried to climb him, looking for food. A few were sniffing in our direction. "No, sheepies. This way! Come here!"

 

They heeded him, but it was obvious they were hungry, and they were starting to realize Tyson didn't have any treats for them. They wouldn't hold out forever with so much fresh meat nearby.

 

"We have to go," I said. "Our ship is..." The Queen Anne's Revenge was a very long way away. The shortest route was across the chasm, and we'd just destroyed the only bridge. The only other possibility was through the sheep.

 

"Tyson," I called, "can you lead the flock as far away as possible?"

 

"The sheep want food."

 

"I know! They want people food! Just lead them away from the path. Give us time to get to the beach. Then join us there."

 

Tyson looked doubtful, but he whistled. "Come, sheepies! Um, people food this way!"

 

He jogged off into the meadow, the sheep in pursuit.

 

"Keep the Fleece around you," I told Annabeth. "Just in case you're not fully healed yet. Can you stand?"

 

She tried, but her face turned pale again. "Ohh. Not fully healed."

 

Clarisse dropped next to her and felt her chest, which made Annabeth gasp.

 

"Ribs broken," Clarisse said. "They're mending, but definitely broken."

 

"How can you tell?" Percy asked.

 

Clarisse glared at him. "Because I've broken a few, runt! I'll have to carry her."

 

Before I could argue, Clarisse picked up Annabeth like a sack of flour and lugged her down to the beach. Grover, Percy and I followed.

 

As soon as we got to the edge of the water, Percy willed the ship to raise anchor and come to us. After a few anxious minutes, we saw the ship rounding the tip of the island.

 

"Incoming!" Tyson yelled. He was bounding down the path to join us, the sheep about fifty yards behind, bleating in frustration as their Cyclops friend ran away without feeding them.

 

"They probably won't follow us into the water," Percy told us. "All we have to do is swim for the ship."

 

"With Annabeth like this?" Clarisse protested.

 

"We can do it," Percy insisted. "Once we get to the ship, we're home free."

 

We almost made it, too.

 

We were just wading past the entrance to the ravine, when we heard a tremendous roar and saw Polyphemus, scraped up and bruised but still very much alive, his baby-blue wedding outfit in tatters, splashing toward us with a boulder in each hand.


	26. 26

"You'd think he'd run out of rocks," I muttered.

 

"Swim for it!" Grover said.

 

He and Clarisse plunged into the surf. Annabeth hung on to Clarisse's neck and tried to paddle with one hand, the wet Fleece weighing her down. Percy swam along with them.

 

But the monster's attention wasn't on the Fleece.

 

"You, young Cyclops!" Polyphemus roared. "Traitor to your kind!"

 

Tyson froze.

 

"Don't listen to him!" I pleaded. "Come on."

 

I pulled Tyson's arm, but I might as well have been pulling a mountain. He turned and faced the older Cyclops. "I am not a traitor."

 

"You serve mortals!" Polyphemus shouted. "Thieving humans!"

 

Polyphemus threw his first boulder. Tyson swatted it aside with his fist.

 

"Not a traitor," Tyson said. "And you are not my kind."

 

"Death or victory!" Polyphemus charged into the surf, but his foot was still wounded. He immediately stumbled and fell on his face. That would've been funny, except he started to get up again, spitting salt water and growling.

 

"Ariana!" Clarisse yelled. "Come on!"

 

They were almost to the ship with the Fleece. If I could just keep the monster distracted a little longer...

 

"Go," Tyson told me. "I will hold Big Ugly."

 

"No! He'll kill you. We'll fight him together."

 

"Together," Tyson agreed.

 

I drew Nikao. Polyphemus advanced carefully, limping worse than ever. But there was nothing wrong with his throwing arm. He chucked his second boulder. I dove to one side, but I still would've been squashed if Tyson's fist hadn't blasted the rock to rubble.

 

Percy ran over to help and drew his sword also.

 

A twenty-foot wave surged up, lifting Percy on its crest. He rode toward the Cyclops and kicked him in the eye, leaping over his head as the water blasted him onto the beach.

 

"Destroy you!" Polyphemus spluttered. "Fleece stealer!"

 

"You stole the Fleece!" Percy yelled. "You've been using it to lure satyrs to their deaths!"

 

"So? Satyrs good eating!"

 

"The Fleece should be used to heal! It belongs to the children of the gods!" I joined in.

 

"I am a child of the gods!" Polyphemus swiped at me, but I sidestepped. "Father Poseidon, curse this thief!" He was blinking hard now, like he could barely see, and I realized he was targeting by the sound of Percy and I's voice.

 

"Poseidon won't curse me," Percy said, backing up as the Cyclops grabbed air. "I'm his son, too. He won't play favorites."

 

Polyphemus roared. He ripped an olive tree out of the side of the cliff and smashed it where I'd been standing a moment before. "Humans not the same! Nasty, tricky, lying!"

 

Grover was helping Annabeth aboard the ship. Clarisse was waving frantically at Percy and I, telling us to come on.  
Tyson worked his way around Polyphemus, trying to get behind him.

 

"Young one!" the older Cyclops called. "Where are you? Help me!"

 

Tyson stopped.

 

"You weren't raised right!"

 

Polyphemus wailed, shaking his olive tree club. "Poor orphaned brother! Help me!"

 

No one moved. No sound but the ocean and my own heartbeat. Then Tyson stepped forward, raising his hands defensively. "Don't fight, Cyclops brother. Put down the—"

 

Polyphemus spun toward his voice.

 

"Tyson!" I screamed.

 

The tree struck him.. Tyson flew backward, plowing a trench in the sand. Polyphemus charged after him, but I shouted, "No!" and lunged as far as I could with Nikao. I'd hoped to sting Polyphemus in the back of the thigh, but I managed to leap a little bit higher.

 

"Blaaaaah!" Polyphemus bleated just like his sheep, and swung at me with his tree.

 

I dove, but still got raked across the back by a dozen jagged branches. I was bleeding and bruised and exhausted.  
Polyphemus swung the tree again, but this time I was ready. I grabbed a branch as it passed, ignoring the pain in my hands as I was jerked skyward, and let the Cyclops lift me into the air. At the top of the arc I let go and fell straight against the giant's face—landing with both feet on his already damaged eye.

 

Polyphemus yowled in pain. Tyson tackled him, pulling him down. Percy ran forward to help Tyson. I landed next to them— Nikao in hand, within striking distance of the monster's heart. But I locked eyes with Tyson, and I knew I couldn't do it. It just wasn't right.

 

"Let him go," I told Tyson and Percy. "Run."

 

With one last mighty effort, Tyson pushed the cursing older Cyclops away, and we ran for the surf.

 

"I will smash you.'" Polyphemus yelled, doubling over in pain. His enormous hands cupped over his eye.

 

Tyson, Percy, and I plunged into the waves.

 

"Where are you?" Polyphemus screamed. He picked up his tree club and threw it into the water. It splashed off to our right.

 

Percy summoned up a current to carry us, and we started gaining speed. I was beginning to think we might make it to the ship, when Clarisse shouted from the deck, "In your face, Cyclops!"

 

Shut up, I wanted to yell.

 

"Rarrr!" Polyphemus picked up a boulder. He threw it toward the sound of Clarisse's voice, but it fell short, narrowly missing Tyson, Percy, and I.

 

"Yeah, yeah!" Clarisse taunted. "You throw like a wimp! Teach you to try marrying me, you idiot!"

 

"Clarisse!" I yelled, unable to stand it. "Shut up!"

 

Too late. Polyphemus threw another boulder, and this time I watched helplessly as it sailed over my head and crashed through the hull of the Queen Anne's Revenge.

 

You wouldn't believe how fast a ship can sink. The Queen Anne's Revenge creaked and groaned and listed forward like it was going down a playground slide.

 

I cursed, and Percy was willing the sea to push us faster, but the ship's masts were already going under.

 

"Dive!" Percy told Tyson and me. And as another rock sailed over our heads, we plunged underwater.

 

My friends were sinking fast, trying to swim, without luck, in the bubbly trail of the ship's wreckage.

 

Not many people realize that when a ship goes down, it acts like a sinkhole, pulling down everything around it. Clarisse was a strong swimmer, but even she wasn't making any progress. Grover frantically kicked with his hooves. Annabeth was hanging on to the Fleece, which flashed in the water like a wave of new pennies.

 

I swam toward them, knowing that I might not have the strength to pull my friends out. Worse, pieces of timber were swirling around them.

 

Shapes shimmered in the darkness below—three horses with fish tails, galloping upward faster than dolphins. Rainbow and his friends glanced in our direction and seemed to read our thoughts. They whisked into the wreckage, and a moment later burst upward in a cloud of bubbles—Grover, Annabeth, and Clarisse each clinging to the neck of a hippocampus.

 

Rainbow, the largest, had Clarisse. He raced over to us and allowed Tyson to grab hold of his mane. His friend who bore Annabeth did the same for me. Percy got on Rainbow with Tyson.

 

We broke the surface of the water and raced away from Polyphemus's island. Behind us, I could hear the Cyclops roaring in triumph, "I did it! I finally sank Nobody!"

 

I hoped he never found out he was wrong.

 

We skimmed across the sea as the island shrank to a dot and then disappeared.

 

"Did it," Annabeth muttered in exhaustion. "We..." She slumped against the neck of the hippocampus and instantly fell asleep.

 

My eyes drooped. I felt the exhaustion from the adventures and lack of sleep. Eventually, I fell asleep.


	27. 27

"Ariana, wake up."

 

Salt water splashed my face. Annabeth was shaking my shoulder.

 

In the distance, the sun was setting behind a city skyline. I could see a beachside highway lined with palm trees, store-fronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

 

"Miami, I think," Annabeth said. "But the hippocampi are acting funny."

 

Sure enough, our fishy friends had slowed down and were whinnying and swimming in circles, sniffing the water. They didn't look happy. One of them sneezed. I could tell what they were thinking.

 

"This is as far as they'll take us," I said. "Too many humans. Too much pollution. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

 

None of us was very psyched about that, but we thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride. Tyson cried a little. He unfastened the makeshift saddle pack he'd made, which contained his tool kit and a couple of other things he'd salvaged from the Birmingham wreck. He hugged Rainbow around the neck, gave him a soggy mango he'd picked up on the island, and said goodbye.

 

Once the hippocampi's white manes disappeared into the sea, we swam for shore. The waves pushed us forward, and in no time we were back in the mortal world. We wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations. Porters bustled  around with carts of luggage. Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed us—six kids dripping wet and looking like they'd just had a fight with a monster—they didn't let on.

 

Now that we were back among mortals, Tyson's single eye had blurred from the Mist. Grover had put on his cap and sneakers. Even the Fleece had transformed from a sheepskin to a red and-gold high school letter jacket with a large glittery Omega on the pocket.

 

Annabeth ran to the nearest newspaper box and checked the date on the Miami Herald. She cursed. "June eighteenth! We've been away from camp ten days!"

 

"That's impossible!" Clarisse said.

 

But I knew it wasn't. Time traveled differently in monstrous places.

 

"Thalia's tree must be almost dead," Grover wailed. "We have to get the Fleece back tonight."

 

Clarisse slumped down on the pavement. "How are we supposed to do that?" Her voice trembled. "We're hundreds of miles away. No money. No ride. This is just like the Oracle said. It's your fault, Jackson! If you hadn't interfered—"

 

"Percy's fault?!" I exploded. "Clarisse, how can you say that? You are the biggest—"

 

"Stop it!" Percy said.

 

Clarisse put her head in hands. I stomped my foot in frustration.

 

The thing was: I'd almost forgotten this quest was supposed to be Clarisse's. For a scary moment, I saw things from her point of view. How would I feel if a bunch of heroes had butted in and made me look bad?

"Clarisse," I said, "what did the Oracle tell you exactly?"

 

She looked up. I thought she was going to tell me off, but instead she took a deep breath and recited her prophecy:  
"You shall sail the iron ship with warriors of bone,  
You shall find what you seek and make it your own,  
But despair for your life entombed within stone,  
And fail without friends, to fly home alone."

 

"Ouch," Grover mumbled.

 

"No," I said. "No... wait a minute. I've got it."

 

I searched my pockets for money, and found nothing. "Does anybody have any cash?"

 

Annabeth and Grover shook their heads morosely. Clarisse pulled a wet Confederate dollar from her pocket and sighed.

 

"Cash?" Tyson asked hesitantly. "Like... green paper?"

 

I looked at him. "Yeah."

 

"Like the kind in duffel bags?"

 

"Yeah, but we lost those bags days a-g-g—"

 

I stuttered to a halt as Tyson rummaged in his saddle pack and pulled out the Ziploc bag full of cash that Hermes had included in our supplies.

 

"Tyson!" I said. "How did you—"

 

"Thought it was a feed bag for Rainbow," he said. "Found it floating in sea, but only paper inside. Sorry."

 

He handed me the cash. Fives and tens, at least three hundred dollars.

 

I ran to the curb and grabbed a taxi that was just letting out a family of cruise passengers. "Clarisse," I yelled. "Come on. You're going to the airport. Annabeth, give her the Fleece."

 

I'm not sure which of them looked more stunned as I took the Fleece letter jacket from Annabeth, tucked the cash into its pocket, and put it in Clarisse's arms.

 

Clarisse said, "You'd let me—"

 

"It's your quest," I said. "We only have enough money for one flight. Besides, Percy can't travel by air. Zeus would blast him into a million pieces. That's what the prophecy meant: you'd fail without friends, meaning you'd need our help, but you'd have to fly home alone. You have to get the Fleece back safely."

 

I could see her mind working—suspicious at first, wondering what trick I was playing, then finally deciding I meant what I said.

 

She jumped in the cab. "You can count on me. I won't fail."

 

"Not failing would be good." Percy said.

 

The cab peeled out in a cloud of exhaust. The Fleece was on its way.

 

"Ariana," Annabeth said, "that was so—"

 

"Generous?" Grover offered.

 

"Insane," Annabeth corrected. "You're betting the lives of everybody at camp that Clarisse will get the Fleece safely back by tonight?"

 

"It's her quest," I said. "She deserves a chance."

 

Percy nodded along with me.

 

"Ariana is nice," Tyson said.

 

"She is too nice," Annabeth grumbled, but I couldn't help thinking that maybe, just maybe, she was a little impressed. I'd surprised her, anyway. And that wasn't easy to do.

 

"Come on," I told my friends. "Let's find another way home."

 

That's when I turned and found a sword's point at my throat.

 

"Hey, babe," said Luke. "Welcome back to the States."

 

I cringed.

 

His bear-man thugs appeared on either of side of us. One grabbed Annabeth, Grover, and Percy by their T-shirt collars. The other tried to grab Tyson, but Tyson knocked him into a pile of luggage and roared at Luke.

 

"Ariana," Luke said calmly, "tell your giant to back down or I'll have Oreius bash your friends' heads together."

 

Oreius grinned and raised Annabeth, Grover, and Percy off the ground, kicking and screaming.

 

"What do you want, Luke?" I scowled.

 

He smiled, the scar rippling on the side of his face.

 

He gestured toward the end of the dock, and I noticed what should've been obvious. The biggest boat in port was the Princess Andromeda.

 

"Why, Ariana," Luke said, "I want to extend my hospitality and your hand in marriage, of course."

 

I rolled my eyes.

 

The bear twins herded us aboard the Princess Andromeda. They threw us down on the aft deck in front of a swimming pool with sparkling fountains that sprayed into the air. A dozen of Luke's assorted goons—snake people, Laistrygonians, demigods in battle armor—had gathered.

 

"And so, the Fleece," Luke mused. "Where is it?" He looked us over, prodding my shirt with the tip of his sword, poking Grover's jeans.

 

"Hey!" Grover yelled. "That's real goat fur under there!"

 

"Sorry, old friend." Luke smiled. "Just give me the Fleece and I'll leave you to return to your, ah, little nature quest."

 

"Blaa-ha-ha!" Grover protested. "Some old friend!"

 

"Maybe you didn't hear me." Luke's voice was dangerously calm. "Where—is—the— Fleece?"

 

"Not here," I said. I probably shouldn't have told him anything, but it felt good to throw the truth in his face. "We sent it on ahead of us. You messed up."

 

Luke's eyes narrowed. "You're lying. You couldn't have..." His face reddened as a horrible possibility occurred to him. "Clarisse?"

 

I nodded.

 

"You trusted... you gave..."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Agrius!"

 

The bear giant flinched. "Y-yes?"

 

"Get below and prepare my steed. Bring it to the deck. I need to fly to the Miami Airport, fast.'"

 

"But, boss—"

 

"Do it!" Luke screamed. "Or I'll feed you to the drakon!"

 

The bear-man gulped and lumbered down the stairs. Luke paced in front of the swimming pool, cursing in Ancient Greek, gripping his sword so tight his knuckles turned white.

 

The rest of Luke's crew looked uneasy. Maybe they'd never seen their boss so unhinged before.

"You've been toying with us all along," Percy said. "You wanted us to bring you the Fleece and save you the trouble of getting it."

Luke scowled. "Of course! And you've messed everything up!"

 

"Traitor!" Percy yelled. He dug his last gold drachma out of his pocket and threw it at Luke. He dodged it easily.  
The coin sailed into the spray of rainbow-colored water.

 

I understood what he was trying to do.

 

"You tricked all of us!" Percy yelled at Luke. "Even DIONYSUS at CAMP HALF-BLOOD!"

 

Behind Luke, the fountain began to shimmer, Percy unsheathed his sword.

 

Luke just sneered. "This is no time for heroics, Percy. Drop your puny little sword, or I'll have you killed sooner rather than later."

 

"Who poisoned Thalia's tree, Luke?" Percy said.

 

"I did, of course," he snarled. "I already told you that. I used elder python venom, straight from the depths of Tartarus."

 

"Chiron had nothing to do with it?"

 

"Ha! You know he would never do that. The old fool wouldn't have the guts."

 

"You call it guts? Betraying your friends? Endangering the whole camp?" 

 

Luke raised his sword. "You don't understand the half of it. I was going to let you take the Fleece... once I was done with it."

 

Why would he let us take the Fleece? He must've been lying. 

 

"You were going to heal Kronos," Percy said.

"Yes! The Fleece's magic would've sped his mending process by tenfold. But you haven't stopped us, Percy. You've only slowed us down a little."

 

"And so you poisoned the tree, you betrayed Thalia, you set us up—all to help Kronos destroy the gods."

 

Luke gritted his teeth. "You know that! Why do you keep asking me?"

 

"Because I want everybody in the audience to hear you."

 

"What audience?"

 

Then his eyes narrowed. He looked behind him and his goons did the same. They gasped and stumbled back.  
Above the pool, shimmering in the rainbow mist, was an Iris-message vision of Dionysus, Tantalus, and the whole camp in the dining pavilion. They sat in stunned silence, watching us.

 

"Well," said Dionysus dryly, "some unplanned dinner entertainment."

 

"Dionysus, you heard him," I said. "You all heard Luke. The poisoning of the tree wasn't Chiron's fault."

 

Dionysus sighed. "I suppose not."

 

"The Iris-message could be a trick," Tantalus suggested, but his attention was mostly on his cheeseburger, which he was trying to corner with both hands.

 

"I fear not," Dionysus said, looking with distaste at Tantalus. "It appears I shall have to reinstate Chiron as activities director. I suppose I do miss the old horse's pinochle games."

 

Tantalus grabbed the cheeseburger. It didn't bolt away from him. He lifted it from the plate and stared at it in amazement, as if it were the largest diamond in the world. "I got it!" he cackled.

 

"We are no longer in need of your services, Tantalus," Dionysus announced.

 

Tantalus looked stunned. "What? But—"

 

"You may return to the Underworld. You are dismissed."

 

"No! But—Nooooooooooo!"

 

As he dissolved into mist, his fingers clutched at the cheeseburger, trying to bring it to his mouth. But it was too late. He disappeared and the cheeseburger fell back onto its plate. The campers exploded into cheering.

 

Luke bellowed with rage. He slashed his sword through the fountain and the Iris-message dissolved, but the deed was done.

 

Luke turned and gave Percy a murderous look.

 

"Kronos was right, Percy. You're an unreliable weapon. You need to be replaced."

 

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I didn't have time to think about it. One of his men blew a brass whistle, and the deck doors flew open. A dozen more warriors poured out, making a circle around us, the brass tips of their spears bristling.

 

Luke smiled at me. "You'll never leave this boat alive."


	28. 28

"One on one," Percy challenged Luke. "What are you afraid of?"

 

Luke curled his lip. The soldiers who were about to kill us hesitated, waiting for his order.

 

Before he could say anything, Agrius, the bear-man, burst onto the deck leading a flying horse. It was a pure-black pegasus, with wings like a giant raven. The pegasus mare bucked and whinnied. I could understand her thoughts. She was calling Agrius and Luke some names so bad Chiron would've washed her muzzle out with saddle soap.

 

"Sir!" Agrius called, dodging a pegasus hoof. "Your steed is ready!"

 

Luke kept his eyes on Percy.

 

"I told you last summer, Percy," he said. "You can't bait me into a fight."

 

"And you keep avoiding one," Percy noticed. "Scared your warriors will see you get whipped?"

 

Luke glanced at his men, and he saw he'd trapped him. If he backed down now, he would look weak. If he fought Percy, he'd lose valuable time chasing after Clarisse. 

 

"I'll kill you quickly," he decided, and raised his weapon. Backbiter was a foot longer than Percy's sword. Its blade glinted with an evil gray-and-gold light where the human steel had been melded with celestial bronze. I could almost feel the blade fighting against itself, like two opposing magnets bound together. I didn't know how the blade had been made, but I sensed a tragedy. Someone had died in the process. Luke whistled to one of his men, who threw him a round leather-and-bronze shield.

 

He grinned at Percy wickedly.

 

"Luke," I said, "at least give him a shield."

 

"Sorry, Ariana," he said. "He should've brought his own equipment to this party."

 

The shield was a problem. Fighting two-handed with just a sword gives you more power, but fighting one-handed with a shield gives you better defense and versatility. There are more moves, more options, more ways to kill.

 

Luke lunged and almost killed Percy on the first try. His sword went under his arm, slashing through his shirt and grazing his ribs.

 

Percy jumped back, then counterattacked with his sword, but Luke slammed his blade away with his shield.

 

"My, Percy," Luke chided. "You're out of practice."

 

He came at Percy again with a swipe to the head. Percy parried, returned with a thrust. He sidestepped easily.  
When Luke lunged again, Percy jumped backward into the swimming pool. He spun underwater, creating a funnel cloud, and blasted out of the deep end, straight at Luke's face.

 

The force of the water knocked him down, spluttering and blinded. But before Percy could strike, he rolled aside and was on his feet again.

 

Percy attacked and sliced off the edge of his shield, but that didn't even faze him. He dropped to a crouch and jabbed at Percy's legs. Percy collapsed. His jeans were ripped above the knee. He was hurt. I didn't know how badly.

Luke hacked downward and Percy rolled behind a deck chair. He tried to stand, but he couldn't.

 

"Perrrrrcy!" Grover bleated.

 

Percy rolled again as Luke's sword slashed the deck chair in half, metal pipes and all.

 

Percy clawed toward the swimming pool, trying hard not to black out. He'd never make it. Luke knew it, too. He advanced slowly, smiling. The edge of his sword was tinged with red.

 

"Two things I want you to watch before you die, Percy." He looked at the bear-man Oreius, who was still holding Annabeth and Grover by the necks. "You can eat your dinner now, Oreius. Bon appetit."

 

Luke then turned his attention to me and smiled wickedly. He stormed towards me and grabbed my arm, brushing my hair away from my face and leaning in.

"He-he! He-he!" The bear-man lifted my friends and bared his teeth.

 

That's when all Hades broke loose.

 

Whish!

 

A red-feathered arrow sprouted from Oreius's mouth. With a surprised look on his hairy face, he crumpled to the deck.

 

"Brother!" Agrius wailed. He let the pegasus's reins go slack just long enough for the black steed to kick him in the head and fly away free over Miami Bay.

 

For a split second, Luke's guards were too stunned to do anything except watch the bear twins' bodies dissolve into smoke.

 

Then there was a wild chorus of war cries and hooves thundering against metal. A dozen centaurs charged out of the main stairwell.

 

"Ponies!" Tyson cried with delight.

 

My mind had trouble processing everything I saw. Chiron was among the crowd, but his relatives were almost nothing like him. There were centaurs with black Arabian stallion bodies, others with gold palomino coats, others with orange-and-white spots like paint horses. Some wore brightly colored T-shirts with Day-Glo letters that said PARTY PONIES: SOUTH FLORIDA CHAPTER. Some were armed with bows, some with baseball bats, some with paintball guns. One had his face painted like a Comanche warrior and was waving a large orange Styrofoam hand making a big Number I. Another was bare-chested and painted entirely green. A third had googly-eye glasses with the eyeballs bouncing around on Slinky coils, and one of those baseball caps with soda-can-and-straw attachments on either side.

 

They exploded onto the deck with such ferocity and color that for a moment even Luke was stunned. I couldn't tell whether they had come to celebrate or attack.

 

Apparently both. As Luke was raising his sword to rally his troops, a centaur shot a custom made arrow with a leather boxing glove on the end. It smacked Luke in the face and sent him crashing into the swimming pool.  
His warriors scattered. I couldn't blame them. Facing the hooves of a rearing stallion is scary enough, but when it's a centaur, armed with a bow and whooping it up in a soda-drinking hat, even the bravest warrior would retreat.

 

"Come get some!" yelled one of the party ponies.

 

They let loose with their paintball guns. A wave of blue and yellow exploded against Luke's warriors, blinding them and splattering them from head to toe. They tried to run, only to slip and fall.

 

Chiron galloped toward Annabeth and Grover, neatly plucked them off the deck, and deposited them on his back. He then galloped towards me and picked me up and put me on his back also. Then, he grabbed Percy.

Luke was crawling out of the pool.

 

"Attack, you fools.'" he ordered his troops. Somewhere down below deck, a large alarm bell thrummed.

 

I knew any second we would be swamped by Luke's reinforcements. Already, his warriors were getting over their surprise, coming at the centaurs with swords and spears drawn.

 

Tyson slapped half a dozen of them aside, knocking them over the guardrail into Miami Bay. But more warriors were coming up the stairs.

 

"Withdraw, brethren!" Chiron said.

 

"You won't get away with this, horse man!" Luke shouted. He raised his sword, but got smacked in the face with another boxing glove arrow, and sat down hard in a deck chair.

 

Luke's warriors were organizing themselves into a phalanx. But by the time they were ready to advance, the centaurs had galloped to the edge of the deck and fearlessly jumped the guardrail, as if it were a steeplechase and not ten stories above the ground. We plummeted toward the docks, but the centaurs hit the asphalt with hardly a jolt and galloped off, whooping and yelling taunts at the Princess Andromeda as we raced into the streets of downtown Miami.

 

I have no idea what the Miamians thought as we galloped by.

 

Streets and buildings began to blur as the centaurs picked up speed. It felt as if space were compacting—as if each centaur step took us miles and miles. In no time, we'd left the city behind. We raced through marshy fields of high grass and ponds and stunted trees.

 

Finally, we found ourselves in a trailer park at the edge of a lake. The trailers were all horse trailers, tricked out with televisions and mini-refrigerators and mosquito netting. We were in a centaur camp.

 

"Dude!" said a party pony as he unloaded his gear. "Did you see that bear guy? He was all like: 'Whoa, I have an arrow in my mouth!'"

 

The centaur with the googly-eye glasses laughed. "That was awesome! Head slam!"

 

The two centaurs charged at each other full-force and knocked heads, then went staggering off in different directions with crazy grins on their faces.

 

Chiron sighed. He set Annabeth, and I down on a picnic blanket. "I really wish my cousins wouldn't slam their heads together. They don't have the brain cells to spare."

 

"Chiron," Percy said. "You saved us."

 

He gave him a dry smile. "Well now, I couldn't very well let you die, especially since you've cleared my name."

 

"But how did you know where we were?" Annabeth asked.

 

"Advanced planning, my dear. I figured you would wash up near Miami if you made it out of the Sea of Monsters alive. Almost everything strange washes up near Miami."

 

"Gee, thanks," Grover mumbled.

 

"No, no," Chiron said. "I didn't mean... Oh, never mind. I am glad to see you, my young satyr. The point is, I was able to eavesdrop on Percy's Iris-message and trace the signal. Iris and I have been friends for centuries. I asked her to alert me to any important communications in this area. It then took no effort to convince my cousins to ride to your aid. As you see, centaurs can travel quite fast when we wish to. Distance for us is not the same as distance for humans."

 

I looked over at the campfire, where three party ponies were teaching Tyson to operate a paintball gun. I hoped they knew what they were getting into.

 

"So what now?" Percy asked Chiron. "We just let Luke sail away? He's got Kronos aboard that ship. Or parts of him, anyway."

 

Chiron knelt, carefully folding his front legs underneath him. He opened the medicine pouch on his belt and started to treat my wounds. "I'm afraid, Percy, that today has been something of a draw. We didn't have the strength of numbers to take that ship. Luke was not organized enough to pursue us. Nobody won."

 

"But we got the Fleece!" Annabeth said. "Clarisse is on her way back to camp with it right now."

 

Chiron nodded, though he still looked uneasy. "You are all true heroes. And as soon as we get Percy fixed up, you must return to Half-Blood Hill. The centaurs shall carry you."

 

"You're coming, too?" Percy asked.

 

"Oh yes, Percy. I'll be relieved to get home. My brethren here simply do not appreciate Dean Martin's music. Besides, I must have some words with Mr. D. There's the rest of the summer to plan. So much training to do. And I want to see... I'm curious about the Fleece."

 

I didn't know exactly what he meant, but it made me worried about what Luke had said: I was going to let you take the Fleece... once I was done with it.

 

Had he just been lying? I'd learned with Kronos there was usually a plan within a plan. The titan lord wasn't called the Crooked One for nothing. He had ways of getting people to do what he wanted without them ever realizing his true intentions.

 

Over by the campfire, Tyson let loose with his paintball gun. A blue projectile splattered against one of the centaurs, hurling him backward into the lake. The centaur came up grinning, covered in swamp muck and blue paint, and gave Tyson two thumbs up.

 

"Ariana," Chiron said, "perhaps you, Grover, and Annabeth would go supervise Tyson and my cousins before they, ah, teach each other too many bad habits?"

 

I met his eyes. I understood what he wanted.

 

"Sure, Chiron," I said. "Come on, goat boy and wise girl."

 

"But I don't like paintball." Grover said.

 

"Yes, you do." I hoisted Grover to his hooves and Annabeth to her feet and led them off toward the campfire.


	29. 29

We arrived in Long Island just after Clarisse, thanks to the centaurs' travel powers. I rode on Chiron's back, but we didn't talk much. 

 

When we got to camp, the centaurs were anxious to meet Dionysus. They'd heard he threw some really wild parties, but they were disappointed. The wine god was in no mood to celebrate as the whole camp gathered at the top of Half-Blood Hill.

 

The camp had been through a hard two weeks. The arts and crafts cabin had burned to the ground from an attack by a Draco Aionius. The Big House's rooms were overflowing with wounded. The kids in the Apollo cabin, who were the best healers, had been working overtime performing first aid. Everybody looked weary and battered as we crowded around Thalia's tree.

 

The moment Clarisse draped the Golden Fleece over the lowest bough, the moonlight seemed to brighten, turning from gray to liquid silver. A cool breeze rustled in the branches and rippled through the grass, all the way into the valley. Everything came into sharper focus— the glow of the fireflies down in the woods, the smell of the strawberry fields, the sound of the waves on the beach.

 

Gradually, the needles on the pine tree started turning from brown to green.

 

Everybody cheered. It was happening slowly, but there could be no doubt—the Fleece's magic was seeping into the tree, filling it with new power and expelling the poison.

 

Chiron ordered a twenty-four/seven guard duty on the hilltop, at least until he could find an appropriate monster to protect the Fleece. He said he'd place an ad in Olympus Weekly right away.

 

In the meantime, Clarisse was carried on her cabin mates' shoulders down to the amphitheater, where she was honored with a laurel wreath and a lot of celebrating around the campfire.

 

Nobody gave Annabeth, Percy, or me a second look. It was as if we'd never left. Really, I didn't want any more attention. It felt good to be just one of the campers for once.

 

Later that night, we were roasting s'mores and listening to the Stoll brothers tell us a ghost story about an evil king who was eaten alive by demonic breakfast pastries.

 

The next morning, after the party ponies headed back to Florida, Chiron made a surprise announcement: the chariot races would go ahead as scheduled. We'd all figured they were history now that Tantalus was gone, but completing them did feel like the right thing to do, especially now that Chiron was back and the camp was safe. I would just be watching, as I usually did.

 

The next morning, everybody was buzzing about the chariot race, though they kept glancing nervously toward the sky like they expected to see Stymphalian birds gathering. None did. It was a beautiful summer day with blue sky and plenty of sunshine. The camp had started to look the way it should look: the meadows were green and lush; the white columns gleamed on the Greek buildings; dryads played happily in the woods.

 

As Annabeth and Percy drove onto the track, I couldn't help admiring the work Tyson had done on the Athena chariot. The carriage gleamed with bronze reinforcements. The wheels were realigned with magical suspension so we glided along with hardly a bump. The rigging for the horses was so perfectly balanced that the team turned at the slightest tug of the reins.

 

Tyson had also made them two javelins, each with three buttons on the shaft. The first button primed the javelin to explode on impact, releasing razor wire that would tangle and shred an opponent's wheels. The second button produced a blunt (but still very painful) bronze spearhead designed to knock a driver out of his carriage. The third button brought up a grappling hook that could be used to lock onto an enemy's chariot or push it away.  
I thought they had a pretty good chance at winning.

 

Percy climbed on board the chariot and got into position just as Chiron blew the starting signal.

 

The horses knew what to do. They shot down the track really fast. Annabeth held on tight to the rail. The wheels glided beautifully. We took the first turn a full chariot-length ahead of Clarisse, who was busy trying to fight off a javelin attack from the Stoll brothers in the Hermes chariot.

 

I cheered for my friends in the stands.

 

Annabeth threw her first javelin in grappling hook mode, knocking away a lead-weighted net that would have entangled us both. Apollo's chariot had come up on our flank. Before Annabeth could rearm herself, the Apollo warrior threw a javelin into their right wheel. The javelin shattered, but not before snapping some of their spokes. Their chariot lurched and wobbled. I was sure the wheel would collapse altogether, but they somehow kept going.  
They were now neck and neck with Apollo. Hephaestus was coming up close behind. Ares and Hermes were falling behind, riding side by side as Clarisse went sword-on-javelin with Connor Stoll.

 

If they took one more hit to their wheel, I knew they would capsize.

 

Annabeth picked up her second javelin—a real risk considering they still had one full lap to go— and threw it at the Apollo driver.

 

Her aim was perfect. The javelin grew a heavy spear point just as it caught the driver in the chest, knocking him against his teammate and sending them both toppling out of their chariot in a backward somersault. The horses felt the reins go slack and went crazy, riding straight for the crowd. Campers scrambled for cover as the horses leaped the corner of the bleachers and the golden chariot flipped over. The horses galloped back toward their stable, dragging the upside-down chariot behind them.

 

Percy held their own chariot together through the second turn. They passed the starting line and thundered into their final lap.

 

The wobbling wheel was making them lose speed.

 

The Hephaestus team was still gaining.

 

Beckendorf grinned as he pressed a button on his command console. Steel cables shot out of the front of his mechanical horses, wrapping around their back rail. Their chariot shuddered as Beckendorf's winch system started working—pulling them backward while Beckendorf pulled himself forward.

 

Annabeth drew her knife. She hacked at the cables.

 

Suddenly, Annabeth pulled herself to the front and grabbed the reins. Percy turned and uncapped his sword.  
He slashed down and the cables snapped like kite string. They lurched forward, but Beckendorf's driver just swung his chariot to their left and pulled up next to them. Beckendorf drew his sword. He slashed at Annabeth, and Percy parried the blade away.

 

They were coming up on the last turn. They'd never make it. They needed to disable the Hephaestus chariot and get it out of the way. Just because Beckendorf was a nice guy didn't mean he wouldn't send them both to the infirmary if they let their guard down.

 

They were neck and neck now, Clarisse coming up from behind, making up for lost time.

 

"See ya, Percy!" Beckendorf yelled. "Here's a little parting gift!"

 

He threw a leather pouch into their chariot. It stuck to the floor immediately and began billowing green smoke.  
Percy managed to punch the stopwatch button on his watch. Instantly, the watch changed. It expanded, the metal rim spiraling outward like an old-fashioned camera shutter, a leather strap wrapping around his forearm until he was holding a round war shield four feet wide, the outside polished bronze engraved with designs.

 

Percy raised the shield, and Beckendorf's sword clanged against it. His blade shattered.

 

Percy knocked Beckendorf in the chest with his new shield and sent him flying out of his chariot, tumbling in the dirt.

 

The Greek fire was shooting sparks. Percy shoved the tip of his sword under the leather pouch and flipped it up like a spatula. The firebomb dislodged and flew into the Hephaestus chariot at the driver's feet. 

 

In a split second the driver made the right choice: he dove out of the chariot, which careened away and exploded in green flames. The metal horses seemed to short-circuit. They turned and dragged the burning wreckage back toward Clarisse and the Stoll brothers, who had to swerve to avoid it.

 

Annabeth pulled the reins for the last turn. I was sure they would capsize, but somehow she brought them through and spurred the horses across the finish line. The crowd roared. I screamed along with them and ran forward to Percy and hugged him. I let go quickly, smiling widely at their success.

Everyone started chanting their names, but Annabeth yelled over the noise: "Hold up! Listen! It wasn't just us!"

 

The crowd didn't want to be quiet, but Annabeth made herself heard: "We couldn't have done it without somebody else! We couldn't have won this race or gotten the Fleece or saved Grover or anything! We owe our lives to Tyson, Percy's..."

 

"Brother!" Percy said, loud enough for everybody to hear. "Tyson, my baby brother."

 

Tyson blushed. The crowd cheered. I planted a kiss on Percy's cheek. The roaring got a lot louder after that. The entire Athena cabin lifted Annabeth, Percy, and Tyson onto their shoulders and carried them toward the winner's platform, where Chiron was waiting to bestow the laurel wreaths.


	30. 30

That afternoon was one of the happiest I'd ever spent at camp, which maybe goes to show, you never know when your world is about to be rocked to pieces.

 

Grover announced that he'd be able to spend the rest of the summer with us before resuming his quest for Pan. His bosses at the Council of Cloven Elders were so impressed that he hadn't gotten himself killed and had cleared the way for future searchers, that they granted him a two-month furlough and a new set of reed pipes. The only bad news: Grover insisted on playing those pipes all afternoon long, and his musical skills hadn't improved much. He played "YMCA," and the strawberry plants started going crazy, wrapping around our feet like they were trying to strangle us. I guess I couldn't blame them.

 

I saw Annabeth and Grover and quickly walked over to them, following as they walked towards Percy.

 

"Hey, Percy." Annabeth said.

 

Percy turned.

 

I guess maybe Percy had some sand in his eyes, because he was blinking a lot.

 

"Tyson..." Percy told us. "He had to..."

 

"We know," Annabeth said softly. "Chiron told us."

 

"Cyclopes forges." Grover shuddered. "I hear the cafeteria food there is terrible! Like, no enchiladas at all."

 

I held out my hand for Percy. "Come on. Time for dinner."

 

We walked back toward the dining pavilion together, just the four of us, like old times.

 

A storm raged that night, but it parted around Camp Half-Blood as storms usually did. Lightning flashed against the horizon, waves pounded the shore, but not a drop fell in our valley. We were protected again, thanks to the Fleece, sealed inside our magical borders.

 

It was like my dreams, peaceful. 

 

I woke with a start.

 

There was a banging on the door. Grover flew inside without waiting for permission. "Ariana!" he stammered.

"Annabeth... on the hill... she..."

 

The look in his eyes told me something was terribly wrong. Annabeth had been on guard duty that night, protecting the Fleece. If something had happened-

 

I ripped off the covers, my blood like ice water in my veins. Grover left the room and I threw on some clothes.

 

I ran outside and raced across the central yard, Grover right behind me. Dawn was just breaking, but the whole camp seemed to be stirring. Word was spreading. Something huge had happened. A few campers were already making their way toward the hill, satyrs and nymphs and heroes in a weird mix of armor and pajamas.

 

I heard the clop of horse hooves, and Chiron galloped up behind us, looking grim.

 

"Is it true?" he asked Grover.

 

Grover could only nod, his expression dazed.

 

I tried to ask what was going on, but Chiron grabbed me by the arm and effortlessly lifted me onto his back.

 

Together we thundered up Half-Blood Hill, where a small crowd had started to gather.

 

I expected to see the Fleece missing from the pine tree, but it was still there, glittering in the first light of dawn. The storm had broken and the sky was blood red.

 

"Curse the titan lord," Chiron said. "He's tricked us again, given himself another chance to control the prophecy."

 

"What do you mean?" I asked.

 

"The Fleece," he said. "The Fleece did its work too well."

 

We galloped forward, everyone moving out of our way. There at the base of the tree, a girl was lying unconscious. Another girl in Greek armor and Percy was kneeling next to her.

 

Blood roared in my ears. I couldn't think straight. Annabeth had been attacked? But why was the Fleece still there?  
The tree itself looked perfectly fine, whole and healthy, suffused with the essence of the Golden Fleece.

 

"It healed the tree," Chiron said, his voice ragged. "And poison was not the only thing it purged."

 

Then I realized Annabeth wasn't the one lying on the ground. She was the one in armor, kneeling next to the unconscious girl. When Annabeth saw us, she ran to Chiron. "It... she... just suddenly there..."

 

Her eyes were streaming with tears, but I still didn't understand. I was too freaked out to make sense of it all. I leaped off Chiron's back and ran toward the unconscious girl. Chiron said: "Wait!"

 

I knelt by her side. She had short black hair and freckles across her nose. She was built like a long-distance runner, lithe and strong, and she wore clothes that were somewhere between punk and Goth-a black T-shirt, black tattered jeans, and a leather jacket with buttons from a bunch of bands I'd never heard of.

 

I walked back, my mouth widening in shock. Percy rushed forward.

 

"It's true," Grover said, panting from his run up the hill. "I can't believe..."

 

Nobody else came close to the girl.

 

Percy put his hand on her forehead. 

 

"She needs nectar and ambrosia," he said. Percy took her by the shoulders and lifted her into sitting position, resting her head on his shoulder.

 

"Come on!" Percy yelled. "What's wrong with you people? Let's get her to the Big House."

 

No one moved, not even Chiron. We were all too stunned.

 

Then the girl took a shaky breath. She coughed and opened her eyes.

 

Her irises were startlingly blue-electric blue.

 

The girl stared at me in bewilderment, shivering and wild-eyed. "Who-"

 

I pushed Percy aside.

 

"I'm Ariana," I said. "You're safe now."

 

"Strangest dream..."

 

"It's okay."

 

"Dying."

 

"No," I assured her. "You're okay. What's your name?"

 

I knew. Even before she said it.

 

The girl's blue eyes stared into mine, and I understood what the Golden Fleece quest had been about. The poisoning of the tree. Everything. Kronos had done it to bring another chess piece into play-another chance to control the prophecy.

 

Even Chiron, Annabeth, and Grover, who should've been celebrating this moment, were too shocked, thinking about what it might mean for the future. And I was holding someone who was destined to be Percy's best friend, or possibly his worst enemy.

 

"I am Thalia," the girl said. "Daughter of Zeus."


	31. 31

The Friday before winter break, Percy's mom picked up Annabeth, Thalia, and I and took us to a boarding school.   
It was an eight-hour drive from New York to Bar Harbor, Maine. Sleet and snow pounded the highway. Annabeth, Thalia, Percy, and I hadn't seen each other in months, but between the blizzard and the thought of what we were about to do, we were too nervous to talk much. Except for Percy's mom. By the time we finally got to Westover Hall, it was getting dark, and she'd told Annabeth, Thalia, and I every baby story there was to tell about Percy.

 

Thalia wiped the fog off the car window and peered outside. "Oh, yeah. This'll be fun."

 

Westover Hall looked like an evil knight's castle. It was all black stone, with towers and slit windows and a big set of wooden double doors. It stood on a snowy cliff overlooking this big frosty forest on one side and the gray churning ocean on the other.

 

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait?" Percy's mother asked.

 

"No, thanks, Mom," Percy said. "I don't know how long it will take. We'll be okay."

 

"But how will you get back? I'm worried, Percy."

 

"It's okay, Ms. Jackson." I smiled reassuringly. "We'll keep him out of trouble."

 

His mom seemed to relax a little. 

 

"All right, dears," Percy's mom said. "Do you have everything you need?"

 

"Yes, Ms. Jackson," Thalia said. "Thanks for the ride."

 

"Extra sweaters? You have my cell phone number?"

 

"Mom—"

 

"Your ambrosia and nectar, Percy? And a golden drachma in case you need to contact camp?"

 

"Mom, seriously! We'll be fine. Come on, guys."

 

She looked a little hurt. 

 

Annabeth, Thalia, and I followed Percy outside. The wind blew straight through my sweater like ice daggers.

 

Once Percy's mother's car was out of sight, Thalia said, "Your mom is so cool, Percy."

 

"She's pretty okay," Percy admitted. "What about you? You ever get in touch with your mom?"

 

As soon as he said it, I wished he hadn't. Thalia was great at giving evil looks, what with the punk clothes she always wears—the ripped-up army jacket, black leather pants and chain jewelry, the black eyeliner and those intense blue eyes. But the look she gave him now was a perfect evil "ten."

 

"If that was any of your business, Percy—"

 

"We'd better get inside," Annabeth interrupted. "Grover will be waiting."

 

Thalia looked at the castle and shivered. "You're right. I wonder what he found here that made him send the distress call."

 

I stared up at the dark towers of Westover Hall. "Nothing good," I guessed.

 

The oak doors groaned open, and the three of us stepped into the entry hall in a swirl of snow.

 

The place was huge. The walls were lined with battle flags and weapon displays: antique rifles, battle axes, and a bunch of other stuff. I mean, I knew Westover was a military school and all, but the decorations seemed like overkill. Literally.

 

My hand went to my pocket, where I kept Kairos. I could already sense something wrong in this place. Something dangerous. Percy reached for his pocket too. Thalia was rubbing her silver bracelet, her favorite magic item. I knew we were thinking the same thing. A fight was coming.

 

Annabeth started to say, "I wonder where—"

 

The doors slammed shut behind us.

 

"Oo-kay," I mumbled. "Guess we'll stay awhile."

 

I could hear music echoing from the other end of the hall. It sounded like dance music.

 

We stashed our overnight bags behind a pillar and started down the hall. We hadn't gone very far when I heard footsteps on the stone floor, and a man and woman marched out of the shadows to intercept us.

 

They both had short gray hair and black military-style uniforms with red trim. The woman had a wispy mustache, and the guy was clean-shaven, which seemed kind of backward to me. They both walked stiffly, like they had broomsticks taped to their spines.

 

"Well?" the woman demanded. "What are you doing here?"

 

"Um…" Percy said, "Ma'am, we're just—"

 

"Ha!" the man snapped, which made me jump. "Visitors are not allowed at the dance! You shall be eee-jected!"

 

He had an accent—French, maybe. He pronounced his J like in Jacques, He was tall, with a hawkish face. His nostrils flared when he spoke, which made it really hard not to stare up his nose, and his eyes were two different colors—one brown, one blue—like an alley cat's.

 

I stepped foward and snapped my fingers. The sound was sharp and loud. It washed over everybody, making the banners rustle on the walls.

 

"Oh, but we're not visitors, sir," I said. "We go to school here. You remember: I'm Ariana. And this is Annabeth, Percy, and Thalia. We're in the eighth grade."

 

The male teacher narrowed his two-colored eyes. 

 

The man looked at his colleague. "Ms. Gottschalk, do you know these students?"

 

The woman blinked, like someone had just woken her up from a trance. "I… yes. I believe I do, sir." She frowned at us. "Ariana. Annabeth. Thalia. Percy. What are you doing away from the gymnasium?"

 

Before we could answer, I heard more footsteps, and Grover ran up, breathless. "You made it! You—"  He stopped short when he saw the teachers. "Oh, Mrs. Gottschalk. Dr. Thorn! I, uh—"

 

"What is it, Mr. Underwood?" said the man. His tone made it clear that he detested Grover. "What do you mean, they made it? These students live here."

 

Grover swallowed. "Yes, sir. Of course, Dr. Thorn. I just meant, I'm so glad they made… the punch for the dance! The punch is great. And they made it!"

 

Dr. Thorn glared at us. I decided one of his eyes had to be fake. The brown one? The blue one? He looked like he wanted to pitch us off the castle's highest tower, but then Mrs. Gottschalk said dreamily, "Yes, the punch is excellent. Now run along, all of you. You are not to leave the gymnasium again!"

 

We didn't wait to be told twice. We left with a lot of "Yes, ma'ams" and "Yes, sirs" and a couple of salutes, just because it seemed like the thing to do.

 

Grover hustled us down the hall in the direction of the music.

 

I could feel the teachers' eyes on my back, and Percy walked closely to me and asked in a low voice, "How did you do that finger-snap thing?"

 

"You mean the Mist? Hasn't Chiron shown you how to do that yet?" 

 

Grover hurried us to a door that had GYM written on the glass. 

 

"That was close!" Grover said. "Thank the gods you got here!"

 

Annabeth, Thalia, and I hugged Grover. Percy gave him a big high five.

 

It was good to see him after so many months. He'd gotten a little taller and had sprouted a few more whiskers, but otherwise he looked like he always did when he passed for human— a red cap on his curly brown hair to hide his goat horns, baggy jeans and sneakers with fake feet to hide his furry legs and hooves. He was wearing a black T-shirt that took me a few seconds to read. It said WESTOVER HALL: GRUNT. I wasn't sure whether that was, like, Grover's rank or maybe just the school motto.

 

"So what's the emergency?" I asked.

 

Grover took a deep breath. "I found two."

 

"Two half-bloods?" Thalia asked, amazed. "Here?"

 

Grover nodded.

 

Finding one half-blood was rare enough. This year, Chiron had put the satyrs on emergency overtime and sent them all over the country, scouring schools from fourth grade through high school for possible recruits. These were desperate times. We were losing campers. We needed all the new fighters we could find. The problem was, there just weren't that many demigods out there.

 

"A brother and a sister," he said. "They're ten and twelve. I don't know their parentage, but they're strong. We're running out of time, though. I need help."

 

"Monsters?"

 

"One." Grover looked nervous. "He suspects. I don't think he's positive yet, but this is the last day of term. I'm sure he won't let them leave campus without finding out. It may be our last chance! Every time I try to get close to them, he's always there, blocking me. I don't know what to do!"

 

Grover looked at Thalia desperately. 

 

"Right," she said. "These half-bloods are at the dance?"

 

Grover nodded.

 

"Then let's dance," Thalia said. "Who's the monster?"

 

"Oh," Grover said, and looked around nervously. "You just met him. The vice principal, Dr. Thorn."

 

Weird thing about military schools: the kids go absolutely nuts when there's a special event and they get to be out of uniform. I guess it's because everything's so strict the rest of the time, they feel like they've got to overcompensate or something.

 

There were black and red balloons all over the gym floor, and guys were kicking them in each others faces, or trying to strangle each other with the crepe-paper streamers taped to the walls. Girls moved around in football huddles, the way they always do, wearing lots of makeup and spaghetti-strap tops and brightly colored pants and shoes. Every once in a while they'd surround some poor guy like a pack of piranhas, shrieking and giggling, and when they finally moved on, the guy would have ribbons in his hair and a bunch of lipstick graffiti all over his face. Some of the older guys looked uncomfortable, hanging out at the edges of the gym and trying to hide, like any minute they might have to fight for their lives. 

 

"There they are." Grover nodded toward a couple of younger kids arguing in the bleachers. "Bianca and Nico di Angelo."

 

The girl wore a floppy green cap, like she was trying to hide her face. The boy was obviously her little brother. They both had dark silky hair and olive skin, and they used their hands a lot as they talked. The boy was shuffling some kind of trading cards. His sister seemed to be scolding him about something. She kept looking around like she sensed something was wrong.

 

Annabeth said, "Do they… I mean, have you told them?"

 

Grover shook his head. "You know how it is. That could put them in more danger. Once they realize who they are, their scent becomes stronger."

 

He looked at me, and I nodded. I'd never really understood what half-bloods "smell" like to monsters and satyrs, but I knew that your scent could get you killed. And the more powerful a demigod you became, the more you smelled like a monster's lunch.

 

"So let's grab them and get out of here," Percy said.

 

He started forward, but Thalia put her hand on his shoulder. The vice principal, Dr. Thorn, had slipped out of a doorway near the bleachers and was standing near the di Angelo siblings. He nodded coldly in our direction. His blue eye seemed to glow.

 

Judging from his expression, I guessed Thorn hadn't been fooled by my trick with the Mist after all. He suspected who we were. He was just waiting to see why we were here.

 

"Don't look at the kids," Thalia ordered. "We have to wait for a chance to get them. We need to pretend we're not interested in them. Throw him off the scent."

 

"How?"

 

"We're three powerful half-bloods and a goddess. Our presence should confuse him. Mingle. Act natural. Do some dancing. But keep an eye on those kids."

 

"Dancing?" Annabeth asked.

 

Thalia nodded. She cocked her ear to the music and made a face. "Ugh. Who chose the Jesse McCartney?"

 

Grover looked hurt. "I did."

 

"Oh my gods, Grover. That is so lame. Can't you play, like, Green Day or something?"

 

"Green who?"

 

"Never mind. Let's dance."

 

"But I can't dance!"

 

"You can if I'm leading," Thalia said. "Come on, goat boy."

 

Grover yelped as Thalia grabbed his hand and led him onto the dance floor.

 

"I'm going to go find a drink, see ya," Annabeth smiled and walked away towards the punch bowl.

 

I turned to face Percy and smiled awkwardly.

 

"Hey!" Thalia called to us. She was slow dancing with Grover, who was tripping all over himself, kicking Thalia in the shins, and looking like he wanted to die. At least his feet were fake. 

 

"Dance, you guys!" Thalia ordered. "You look stupid just standing there."

 

Percy looked nervously at me, then at the groups of girls who were roaming the gym.

 

"Well?" I said.

 

"Um, who should I ask?"

 

I slapped him on the shoulder. "Me, dummy."

 

"Oh. Oh, right."

 

So we went onto the dance floor, and I saw Percy looking over to see how Thalia and Grover were doing things. Percy put one hand on my hip, and I clasped his other hand.

 

"I'm not going to bite," I told Percy. "Honestly, Percy. Don't you guys have dances at your school? Have you even danced anywhere?"

 

We shuffled around for a few minutes. 

 

"You should really be nicer to your mom," I said sternly.

 

"I..." Percy stuttered, his face as red as a tomato.

 

"She took care of you and risked her life for your's. The least you could be is nice to her."

 

"You're right..." Percy mumbled and looked down at the ground.

 

"Percy. I… I probably should tell you something." Suddenly I saw Bianca and Nico were gone and froze. "They're gone."

 

"What?" Percy followed my gaze. The bleachers. The two half-blood kids, Bianca and Nico, were no longer there. The door next to the bleachers was wide open. Dr. Thorn was nowhere in sight.

 

"We have to get Thalia, Grover, and Annabeth!" I looked around frantically. "Oh, where'd they dance off to? Come on!"

 

I quickly found Annabeth and told her to go find Thalia and Grover. I raced off after Percy.

 

I saw something that chilled my blood.

 

About fifty feet away, lying on the gym floor, was a floppy green cap just like the one Bianca di Angelo had been wearing. Near it were a few scattered trading cards. Then I caught a glimpse of Dr. Thorn. He was hurrying out a door at the opposite end of the gym, steering the di Angelo kids by the scruffs of their necks, like kittens. Percy was following after them.

 

The door led into a dark hallway. I heard sounds of scuffling up ahead, then a painful grunt. I unsheathed Kairos.

 

Percy clicked his pen. The pen grew in his hands until he held a bronze Greek sword about three feet long with a leather-bound grip. The blade glowed faintly, casting a golden light on the rows of lockers.

 

We jogged down the corridor, but when we got to the other end, no one was there. We opened a door and found ourselves back in the main entry hall. We were completely turned around. I didn't see Dr. Thorn anywhere, but there on the opposite side of the room were the di Angelo kids. They stood frozen in horror, staring right at us.

 

I advanced slowly, lowering the tip of my dagger. "It's okay. We're not going to hurt you."

 

They didn't answer. Their eyes were full of fear. What was wrong with them? Where was Dr. Thorn? Maybe he'd sensed the presence of Riptide and retreated. Monsters hated celestial bronze weapons.

 

"My name's Ariana and this is Percy," I said, pointing to Percy. "We're going to take you out of here, get you somewhere safe."

 

Bianca's eyes widened. Her fists clenched. Only too late did I realize what her look meant. She wasn't afraid of me. She was trying to warn me.

 

I whirled around and something went WHIISH! Pain exploded in my shoulder. A force like a huge hand yanked me backward and slammed me to the wall.

 

I slashed with Kairos but there was nothing to hit.

 

A cold laugh echoed through the hall.

 

"Yes, Ariana and Perseus Jackson," Dr. Thorn said. His accent mangled the J in Percy's last name. "I know who you two are."

 

I tried to free my shoulder. My sweater was pinned to the wall by some kind of spike—a black dagger-like projectile about a foot long. It had grazed the skin of my shoulder as it passed through my sweater, and the cut burned. I'd felt something like this before. Poison.

 

I forced myself to concentrate. I would not pass out.

 

A dark silhouette now moved toward us. Dr. Thorn stepped into the dim light. He still looked human, but his face was ghoulish. He had perfect white teeth and his brown/blue eyes reflected the light of Percy's sword.

 

"Thank you for coming out of the gym," he said. "I hate middle school dances."

 

I tried to swing Kairos again, but he was just out of reach.

 

WHIIIISH! A second projectile shot from somewhere behind Dr. Thorn. He didn't appear to move. It was as if someone invisible were standing behind him, throwing knives.

 

Next to me, Bianca yelped. The second thorn impaled itself in the stone wall, half an inch from her face.

 

"All four of you will come with me," Dr. Thorn said. "Quietly. Obediently. If you make a single noise, if you call out for help or try to fight, I will show you just how accurately I can throw."


	32. 32

I didn't know what kind of monster Dr. Thorn was, but he was fast.

 

Suddenly, Percy closed his eyes.

 

"What are you doing, Jackson?" hissed Dr. Thorn. "Keep moving!"

 

He opened his eyes and kept shuffling forward. "It's painful to watch her shoulder," Percy said, sounding miserable. "It's kind of freaking me out."

 

"Bah! Why do you care? Is she your girlfriend or something? My poison causes pain. It will not kill her. Walk!"

 

Thorn herded us outside.

 

Thorn inarched us into the woods. We took a snowy path dimly lit by old-fashioned lamplights. My shoulder ached. The wind blowing through my ripped clothes was cold.

 

"There is a clearing ahead," Thorn said. "We will summon your ride."

 

"What ride?" Bianca demanded. "Where are you taking us?"

 

"Silence, you insufferable girl!"

 

"Don't talk to my sister that way.'" Nico said. His voice quivered, but I was impressed that he had the guts to say anything at all.

 

Dr. Thorn made a growling sound that definitely wasn't human. It made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, but I forced myself to keep walking and pretend I was being a good little captive. 

 

"Halt," Thorn said.

 

The woods had opened up. We'd reached a cliff overlooking the sea. At least, I sensed the sea was down there, hundreds of feet below. I could hear the waves churning and I could smell the cold salty froth. But all I could see was mist and darkness.

 

Dr. Thorn pushed us toward the edge. I stumbled, and Percy caught me.

 

"Thanks," I murmured.

 

"I'm scared," Nico mumbled. He was fiddling with something—a little metal toy soldier of some kind.

 

"Stop talking!" Dr. Thorn said. "Face me!"

 

We turned. Thorn's two-tone eyes glittered hungrily. He pulled something from under his coat. At first I thought it was a switchblade, but it was only a phone. He pressed the side button and said, "The package—it is ready to deliver."

 

There was a garbled reply, and I realized Thorn was in walkie-talkie mode. This seemed way too modern and creepy—a monster using a mobile phone.

 

I glanced behind me, wondering how far the drop was.

 

Dr. Thorn laughed. "By all means, Daughter of All Twelve. Jump! There is the sea. Save yourself."

 

"What did he call you?" Bianca muttered.

 

"I'll explain later," I said.

 

"You do have a plan, right?"

 

Maybe I could get both the di Angelos to jump with Percy and me into the ocean. If we survived the fall, we could use the water to protect us.

 

"I would kill you before you ever reached the water," Dr. Thorn said, as if reading my thoughts. "You do not realize who I am, do you?"

 

A flicker of movement behind him, and another missile whistled so close to me that it nicked my ear. Something had sprung up behind Dr. Thorn—like a catapult, but more flexible… almost like a tail.

 

"Unfortunately," Thorn said, "you are wanted alive, if possible. Otherwise you would already be dead."

 

"Who wants us?" Bianca demanded. "Because if you think you'll get a ransom, you're wrong. We don't have any family. Nico and I…" Her voice broke a little. "We've got no one but each other."

 

"Aww," Dr. Thorn said. "Do not worry, little brats. You will be meeting my employer soon enough. Then you will have a brand-new family."

 

"Luke," Percy said. "You work for Luke."

 

Dr. Thorn's mouth twisted with distaste. "You have no idea what is happening, Perseus Jackson. I will let the General enlighten you. You are going to do him a great service tonight. He is looking forward to meeting you."

 

"The General?" Percy asked. "I mean… who's the General?"

 

Thorn looked toward the horizon. "Ah, here we are. Your transportation."

 

I turned and saw a light in the distance, a searchlight over the sea. Then I heard the chopping of helicopter blades getting louder and closer.

 

"Where are you taking us?" Nico said.

 

"You should be honored, my boy. You will have the opportunity to join a great army! Just like that silly game you play with cards and dolls."

 

"They're not dolls! They're figurines! And you can take your great army and—"

 

"Now, now," Dr. Thorn warned. "You will change your mind about joining us, my boy. And if you do not, well… there are other uses for half-bloods. We have many monstrous mouths to feed. The Great Stirring is underway."

 

"The Great what?" Percy asked. 

 

"The stirring of monsters." Dr. Thorn smiled evilly. "The worst of them, the most powerful, are now waking. Monsters that have not been seen in thousands of years. They will cause death and destruction the likes of which mortals have never known. And soon we shall have the most important monster of all—the one that shall bring about the downfall of Olympus!"

 

"Okay," Bianca whispered to me. "He's completely nuts."

 

"We have to jump off the cliff," I told her quietly. "Into the sea."

 

"Oh, super idea. You're completely nuts, too."

 

I never got the chance to argue with her, because just then an invisible force slammed into me.

 

Looking back on it, Annabeth's move was brilliant. Wearing her cap of invisibility, she plowed into the di Angelos, Percy, and me knocking us to the ground. For a split second, Dr. Thorn was taken by surprise, so his first volley of missiles zipped harmlessly over our heads. This gave Thalia and Grover a chance to advance from behind—Thalia wielding her magic shield, Aegis.

 

If you've never seen Thalia run into battle, you have never been truly frightened. She uses a huge spear that expands from this collapsible Mace canister she carries in her pocket, but that's not the scary part. Her shield is modeled after one her dad Zeus uses—also called Aegis—a gift from Athena. The shield has the head of the gorgon Medusa molded into the bronze, and even though it won't turn you to stone, it's so horrible, most people will panic and run at the sight of it.

 

Even Dr. Thorn winced and growled when he saw it.

 

Thalia moved in with her spear. "For Zeus!"

 

I thought Dr. Thorn was a goner. Thalia jabbed at his head, but he snarled and swatted the spear aside. His hand changed into an orange paw, with enormous claws that sparked against Thalia's shield as he slashed. If it hadn't been for Aegis, Thalia would've been sliced like a loaf of bread. As it was, she managed to roll backward and land on her feet.

 

The sound of the helicopter was getting louder behind me, but I didn't dare look.

 

Dr. Thorn launched another volley of missiles at Thalia, and this time I could see how he did it. He had a tail—a leathery, scorpionlike tail that bristled with spikes at the tip. The missiles deflected off Aegis, but the force of their impact knocked Thalia down.

 

Grover sprang forward. He put his reed pipes to his lips and began to play—a frantic jig that sounded like something pirates would dance to. Grass broke through the snow. Within seconds, rope-thick weeds were wrapping around Dr. Thorn's legs, entangling him.

 

Dr. Thorn roared and began to change. He grew larger until he was in his true form—his face still human, but his body that of a huge lion. His leathery, spiky tail whipped deadly thorns in all directions.

 

"A manticore!" Annabeth said, now visible. Her magical New York Yankees cap had come off when she'd plowed into us.

 

"Who are you people?" Bianca di Angelo demanded. "And what is that?"

 

"A manticore?" Nico gasped. "He's got three thousand attack power and plus five to saving throws!"

 

I didn't know what he was talking about, but I didn't have time to worry about it. The manticore clawed Grover's magic weeds to shreds then turned toward us with a snarl.

 

"Get down!" Annabeth pushed the di Angelos flat into the snow. Percy hit his wristwatch, and metal plating spiraled out into a thick bronze shield. Not a moment too soon. The thorns impacted against it with such force they dented the metal. The beautiful shield, a gift from his brother, was badly damaged. I wasn't sure it would even stop a second volley.

 

I heard a thwack and a yelp, and Grover landed next to me with a thud.

 

"Yield!" the monster roared.

 

"Never!" Thalia yelled from across the field. She charged the monster, and for a second, I thought she would run him through. But then there was a thunderous noise and a blaze of light from behind us. The helicopter appeared out of the mist, hovering just beyond the cliffs. It was a sleek black military-style gunship, with attachments on the sides that looked like laser-guided rockets. The helicopter had to be manned by mortals, but what was it doing here? How could mortals be working with a monster? The searchlights blinded Thalia, and the manticore swatted her away with its tail. Her shield flew off into the snow. Her spear flew in the other direction.

 

"No!" I ran out to help her. I parried away a spike just before it would've hit her chest. Percy ran after me.

 

Dr. Thorn laughed. "Now do you see how hopeless it is? Yield, little heroes."

 

We were trapped between a monster and a fully armed helicopter. We had no chance.

 

Then I heard a clear, piercing sound: the call of a hunting horn blowing in the woods.

 

The manticore froze. For a moment, no one moved. There was only the swirl of snow and wind and the chopping of the helicopter blades.

 

"No," Dr. Thorn said. "It cannot be—"

 

His sentence was cut short when something shot past me like a streak of moonlight. A glowing silver arrow sprouted from Dr. Thorn's shoulder.

 

He staggered backward, wailing in agony.

 

"Curse you!" Thorn cried. He unleashed his spikes, dozens of them at once, into the woods where the arrow had come from, but just as fast, silvery arrows shot back in reply. It almost looked like the arrows had intercepted the thorns in midair and sliced them in two.

 

The manticore pulled the arrow out of his shoulder with a howl of pain. His breathing was heavy. Percy tried to swipe at him with his sword, but he wasn't as injured as he looked. He dodged his attack and slammed his tail into him, knocking him aside.

 

Then the archers came from the woods. They were girls, about a dozen of them. The youngest was maybe ten. The oldest, about fourteen. They wore silvery ski parkas and jeans, and they were all armed with bows. They advanced on the manticore with determined expressions.

 

"The Hunters!" I cried.

 

Next to me, Thalia muttered, "Oh, wonderful."

 

One of the older archers stepped forward with her bow drawn. She was tall and graceful with coppery colored skin. Unlike the other girls, she had a silver circlet braided into the top of her long dark hair, so she looked like some kind of Persian princess. "Permission to kill, my lady?"

 

I couldn't tell who she was talking to, because she kept her eyes on the manticore.

 

The monster wailed. "This is not fair! Direct interference! It is against the Ancient Laws."

 

"Not so," another girl said. This one was a little younger, maybe twelve or thirteen. She had auburn hair gathered back in a ponytail and strange eyes, silvery yellow like the moon. "The hunting of all wild beasts is within my sphere. And you, foul creature, are a wild beast." She looked at the older girl with the circlet. "Zoe, permission granted."

 

The manticore growled. "If I cannot have these alive, I shall have them dead!"

 

He lunged at Thalia, Percy, and me, knowing we were weak and dazed.

 

"No." Annabeth yelled, and charged at the monster.

 

"Get back, half-blood!" the girl with the circlet said. "Get out of the line of fire!"

 

But Annabeth leaped onto the monster's back and drove her knife into his mane. The manticore howled, turning in circles with his tail flailing as Annabeth hung on for dear life.

 

"Fire!" Zoe ordered.

 

"No!" I screamed.

 

But the Hunters let their arrows fly. The first caught the manticore in the neck. Another hit his chest. The manticore staggered backward, wailing, "This is not the end, Huntress! You shall pay!"

 

The monster, with Annabeth still on his back, leaped over the cliff and tumbled into the darkness.

 

"Annabeth!" I yelled.

 

I started to run after her, but our enemies weren't done with us. There was a snap-snapsnap from the helicopter—the sound of gunfire.

 

Most of the Hunters scattered as tiny holes appeared in the snow at their feet, but Artemis looked up calmly at the helicopter.

 

"Mortals," she announced, "are not allowed to witness my hunt."

 

She thrust out her hand, and the helicopter exploded into dust—no, not dust. The black metal dissolved into a flock of birds—ravens, which scattered into the night.

 

The Hunters advanced on us.

 

Zoe stopped short when she saw Thalia. "You," she said with distaste.

 

"Zoe Nightshade." Thalia's voice trembled with anger. "Perfect timing, as usual."

 

Zoe scanned the rest of us. "Four half-bloods, a satyr, and Ariana my lady."

 

"Yes," the younger girl said. "Some of Chiron's campers, I see."

 

"Annabeth!" Percy yelled. "You have to let us save her!"

 

Artemis turned toward him. "I'm sorry, Percy Jackson, but your friend is beyond help."

 

He tried to struggle to his feet, but a couple of the girls held him down.

 

"You are in no condition to be hurling yourself off cliffs," Artemis said.

 

"Let me go!" Percy demanded. "Who do you think you are?"

 

Zoe stepped forward as if to smack him.

 

"No," Artemis ordered. "I sense no disrespect, Zoe. He is simply distraught. He does not understand."

 

Artemis looked at us, her eyes colder and brighter than the winter moon.

 

"I am Artemis," she said. "Goddess of the Hunt."


	33. 33

Percy said something real intelligent like, "Um… okay."

 

That was nothing compared to Grover. He gasped, then knelt hastily in the snow and started yammering, "Thank you, Lady Artemis! You're so… you're so… Wow!"

 

"Get up, goat boy!" Thalia snapped. "We have other things to worry about. Annabeth is gone!"

 

"Whoa," Bianca di Angelo said. "Hold up. Time out."

 

Everybody looked at her. She pointed her finger at all of us in turn, like she was trying to connect the dots. "Who… who are you people?"

 

Artemis's expression softened."It might be a better question, my dear girl, to ask who are you! Who are your parents?"

 

Bianca glanced nervously at her brother, who was still staring in awe at Artemis.

 

"Our parents are dead," Bianca said. "We're orphans. There's a bank trust that pays for our school, but…"

 

She faltered. I guess she could tell from our faces that we didn't believe her.

 

"What?" she demanded. "I'm telling the truth."

 

"You are a half-blood," Zoe Nightshade said. "One of thy parents was mortal. The other was an Olympian."

 

"An Olympian… athlete?"

 

"No," Zoe said. "One of the gods."

 

"Cool!" said Nico.

 

"No!" Bianca's voice quavered. "This is not cool!"

 

Nico danced around like he needed to use the restroom. "Does Zeus really have lightning bolts that do six hundred damage? Does he get extra movement points for—"

 

"Nico, shut up!" Bianca put her hands to her face. "This is not your stupid Mythomagic game, okay? There are no gods!"

 

As anxious as I felt about Annabeth—all I wanted to do was search for her—I couldn't help feeling sorry for the di Angelos. 

 

The anger in Thalia's eyes subsided a little bit. "Bianca, I know it's hard to believe. But the gods are still around. Trust me. They're immortal. And whenever they have kids with regular humans, kids like us, well… Our lives are dangerous."

 

"Dangerous," Bianca said, "like the girl who fell."

 

Thalia turned away. I put my head in my hands, my eyes burning with tears. 

 

"Do not despair for Annabeth," the goddess said. "She was a brave maiden. If she can be found, I shall find her."

 

"Then why won't you let us go look for her?" Percy asked.

 

"She is gone. Can't you sense it, Son of Poseidon? Some magic is at work. I do not know exactly how or why, but your friend has vanished." 

 

"Oo!" Nico raised his hand. "What about Dr. Thorn? That was awesome how you shot him with arrows! Is he dead?"

 

"He was a manticore," Artemis said. "Hopefully he is destroyed for now, but monsters never truly die. They re-form over and over again, and they must be hunted whenever they reappear."

 

"Or they'll hunt us," Thalia said.

 

Bianca di Angelo shivered. "That explains… Nico, you remember last summer, those guys who tried to attack us in the alley in DC?"

 

"And that bus driver," Nico said. "The one with the ram's horns. I told you that was real."

 

"That's why Grover has been watching you," I said, lifting my head out of my hands. "To keep you safe, if you turned out to be half-bloods."

 

"Grover?" Bianca stared at him. "You're a demigod?"

 

"Well, a satyr, actually." He kicked off his shoes and displayed his goat hooves. I thought Bianca was going to faint right there.

 

"Grover, put your shoes back on," Thalia said. "You're freaking her out."

 

"Hey, my hooves are clean!"

 

"Bianca," I said, "we came here to help you. You and Nico need training to survive. Dr. Thorn won't be the last monster you meet. You need to come to camp."

 

"Camp?" she asked.

 

"Camp Half-Blood," I said. "It's where half-bloods learn to survive and stuff. You can join us, stay there year-round if you like."

 

"Sweet, let's go!" said Nico.

 

"Wait," Bianca shook her head. "I don't—"

 

"There is another option," Zoe said.

 

"No, there isn't!" Thalia said.

 

Thalia and Zoe glared at each other.

 

"We've burdened these children enough," Artemis announced. "Zoe, we will rest here for a few hours. Raise the tents. Treat the wounded. Retrieve our guests' belongings from the school."

 

"Yes, my lady."

 

"And, Bianca, come with me. I would like to speak with you."

 

"What about me?" Nico asked.

 

Artemis considered the boy. "Perhaps you can show Grover how to play that card game you enjoy. I'm sure Grover would be happy to entertain you for a while… as a favor to me?"

 

Grover just about tripped over himself getting up. "You bet! Come on, Nico!"

 

Nico and Grover walked off toward the woods, talking about hit points and armor ratings and a bunch of other geeky stuff. Artemis led a confused-looking Bianca along the cliff. The Hunters began unpacking their knapsacks and making camp.

 

Zoe gave Thalia one more evil look, then left to oversee things.

 

As soon as she was gone, Thalia stamped her foot in frustration. "The nerve of those Hunters! They think they're so… Argh!"

 

"I'm with you," Percy said. "I don't trust—"

 

"Oh, you're with me?" Thalia turned on him furiously. "What were you thinking back there in the gym, Percy? You'd take on Dr. Thorn all by yourself? You knew he was a monster!"

 

"If we'd stuck together, we could've taken him without the Hunters getting involved. Annabeth might still be here. Did you think of that?"

 

"Guys, stop it! Annabeth wouldn't want you to fight," I said.

 

Thalia didn't say another word. She wiped a tear from her cheek, turned, and marched off. Percy turned and left too, picking up Annabeth's cap as he left.

 

The Hunters set up their camping site in a matter of minutes. Seven large tents, all of silver silk, curved in a crescent around one side of a bonfire. One of the girls blew a silver dog whistle, and a dozen white wolves appeared out of the woods. They began circling the camp like guard dogs. The Hunters walked among them and fed them treats, completely unafraid. Falcons watched us from the trees, their eyes flashing in the firelight, and I got the feeling they were on guard duty, too. Even the weather seemed to bend to Artemis' will. The air was still cold, but the wind died down and the snow stopped falling, so it was almost pleasant sitting by the fire.

 

Almost… except for the pain in my shoulder and the guilt weighing me down. I couldn't believe Annabeth was gone. 

 

I watched Thalia pacing in the snow at the edge of camp, walking among the wolves without fear. She stopped and looked back at Westover Hall, which was now completely dark, looming on the hillside beyond the woods. I wondered what she was thinking.

 

Seven years ago, Thalia had been turned into a pine tree by her father, to prevent her from dying. She'd stood her ground against an army of monsters on top of Half-Blood Hill in order to give her friends Luke and Annabeth time to escape. She'd only been back as a human for a few months now, and once in a while she would stand so motionless you'd think she was still a tree.

 

Finally, one of the Hunters brought me my bag, which was full of extra clothes and medical supplies. Grover and Nico came back from their walk, and Grover helped me fix up my wounded arm.

 

"It's green!" Nico said with delight.

 

"Hold still," Grover told me. "Here, eat some ambrosia while I clean that out."

 

I winced as he dressed the wound, but the ambrosia square helped. Between that and the magic salve Grover used, my shoulder felt better within a couple of minutes.

 

Percy walked over and joined us.

 

Nico rummaged through his own bag, which the Hunters had apparently packed for him, though how they'd snuck into Westover Hall unseen, I didn't know. Nico laid out a bunch of figurines in the snow—little battle replicas of Greek gods and heroes. I recognized Zeus with a lightning bolt, Ares with a spear, Apollo with his sun chariot.

 

"Big collection," I said.

 

Nico grinned. "I've got almost all of them, plus their holographic cards! Well, except for a few really rare ones."

 

"You've been playing this game a long time?"

 

"Just this year. Before that…" He knit his eyebrows.

 

"What?" I asked.

 

"I forget. That's weird."

 

He looked unsettled, but it didn't last long. "Hey, can I see that sword you were using?" he asked Percy.

 

He showed him Riptide, and explained how it turned from a pen into a sword just by uncapping it.

 

"Cool! Does it ever run out of ink?"

 

"Um, well, I don't actually write with it."

 

"Are you really the son of Poseidon?"

 

"Well, yeah."

 

"Can you surf really well, then?"

 

Grover was trying hard not to laugh.

 

"Jeez, Nico," Percy said. "I've never really tried."

 

He went on asking questions. Did Percy fight a lot with Thalia, since she was a daughter of Zeus? (He didn't answer that one.) If Annabeth's mother was Athena, the goddess of wisdom, then why didn't Annabeth know better than to fall off a cliff? Was I Percy's girlfriend? 

 

I figured any second he was going to ask Percy how many hit points he had, but then Zoe Nightshade came up to us.

 

"Percy Jackson."

 

She had dark brown eyes and a slightly upturned nose. She studied Percy distastefully, like he was a bag of dirty laundry she'd been sent to fetch.

 

"Come with me," she said. "Lady Artemis wishes to speak with thee."

 

Percy was led off into a tent.


	34. 34

Artemis assured us that dawn was coming, but you could've fooled me. It was colder and darker and snowier than ever. Up on the hill, Westover Hall's windows were completely lightless. I wondered if the teachers had even noticed the di Angelos and Dr. Thorn were missing yet. 

 

The Hunters broke camp as quickly as they'd set it up. I stood shivering in the snow (unlike the Hunters, who didn't seem to feel at all uncomfortable), and Artemis stared into the east like she was expecting something. Bianca sat off to one side, talking with Nico. I could tell from his gloomy face that she was explaining something bad.

 

Suddenly, I saw Percy and went over with Thalia and Grover.

 

Percy told us what happened, and Grover turned pale. "The last time the Hunters visited camp, it didn't go well."

 

"How'd they even show up here?" Percy wondered. "I mean, they just appeared out of nowhere."

 

"And Bianca joined them," Thalia said, disgusted. "It's all Zoe's fault. That stuck-up, no good—"

 

"Who can blame her?" Grover said. "Eternity with Artemis?" He heaved a big sigh.

 

Thalia rolled her eyes. "You satyrs. You're all in love with Artemis. Don't you get that she'll never love you back?"

 

"But she's so… into nature," Grover swooned.

 

"You're nuts," said Thalia.

 

"Nuts and berries," Grover said dreamily. "Yeah."

 

Finally the sky began to lighten. Artemis muttered, "About time. He's so-o-o lazy during the winter."

 

"You're, um, waiting for sunrise?" Percy asked.

 

"For my brother. Yes," she thought for a moment. "It's not exactly as you think."

 

"Oh, okay. So, it's not like he'll be pulling up in a—"

 

There was a sudden burst of light on the horizon. A blast of warmth.

 

"Don't look," Artemis advised. "Not until he parks."

 

I averted my eyes, and saw that the other kids were doing the same. The light and warmth intensified until my sweater felt like it was melting off of me. Then suddenly the light died.

 

I looked back and there was a red convertible Maserati Spyder. It was so awesome it glowed. Then I realized it was glowing because the metal was hot. The snow had melted around the Maserati in a perfect circle, which explained why I was now standing on green grass and my shoes were wet.

 

Apollo got out, smiling. He wore jeans and loafers and a sleeveless T-shirt.

 

"Wow," Thalia muttered. "Apollo is hot."

 

"He's the sun god," Percy said.

 

"That's not what I meant."

 

"That's kind of weird to be talking about my dad like that." I said, gagging.

 

"Little sister!" Apollo called. If his teeth were any whiter he could've blinded us without the sun car. "What's up? You never call. You never write. I was getting worried!"

 

Artemis sighed. "I'm fine, Apollo. And I am not your little sister."

 

"Hey, I was born first."

 

"We're twins! How many millennia do we have to argue—"

 

"So what's up?" he interrupted. "Oh, hey Ariana! Got the girls with you, I see. You all need some tips on archery?"

 

Artemis grit her teeth. "I need a favor. I have some hunting to do, alone. I need you to take my companions to Camp Half-Blood."

 

"Sure, sis!" Then he raised his hands in a stop everything gesture. "I feel a haiku coming on."

 

The Hunters and I groaned. 

 

He cleared his throat and held up one hand dramatically.

 

"Green grass breaks through snow.  
Artemis pleads for my help.  
I am so cool."

 

He grinned at us, waiting for applause.

 

"That last line was only four syllables," Artemis said.

 

Apollo frowned. "Was it?"

 

"Yes. What about I am so big-headed?"

 

"No, no, that's six syllables. Hmm." He started muttering to himself.

 

Zoe Nightshade turned to us. "Lord Apollo has been going through this haiku phase ever since he visited Japan. 'Tis not as bad as the time he visited Limerick. If I'd had to hear one more poem that started with, There once was a goddess from Sparta—"

 

"I've got it!" Apollo announced. "I am so awesome. That's five syllables!" He bowed, looking very pleased with himself.

 

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll."

 

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

 

"No problem!" Apollo checked them out. "Let's see… Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

 

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

 

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

 

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

 

"Oh, right." Then he looked at Percy, and his eyes narrowed. "Percy Jackson?"

 

"Yeah. I mean… yes, sir."

 

Apollo studied him, but he didn't say anything.

 

"Well!" he said at last. "We'd better load up, huh? Ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

 

I looked at the Maserati, which would seat two people max. There were about twenty of us.

 

"Cool car," Nico said.

 

"Thanks, kid," Apollo said.

 

"But how will we all fit?"

 

"Oh." Apollo seemed to notice the problem for the first time. "Well, yeah. I hate to change out of sports-car mode, but I suppose…"

 

He took out his car keys and beeped the security alarm button. Chirp, chirp.

 

For a moment, the car glowed brightly again. When the glare died, the Maserati had been replaced by one of those Turtle Top shuttle buses.

 

"Right," he said. "Everybody in."

 

Zoe ordered the Hunters to start loading. She picked up her camping pack, and Apollo said, "Here, sweetheart. Let me get that."

 

Zoe recoiled. Her eyes flashed murderously.

 

"Brother," Artemis chided. "You do not help my Hunters. You do not look at, talk to, or flirt with my Hunters. And you do not call them sweetheart."

 

Apollo spread his hands. "Sorry. I forgot. Hey, sis, where are you off to, anyway?"

 

"Hunting," Artemis said. "It's none of your business."

 

"I'll find out. I see all. Know all."

 

Artemis snorted. "Just drop them off, Apollo. And no messing around!"

 

"No, no! I never mess around."

 

Artemis rolled her eyes, then looked at us. "I will see you by winter solstice. Zoe, you are in charge of the Hunters. Do well. Do as I would do."

 

Zoe straightened. "Yes, my lady."

 

"I'll see you later, Ariana. Take care of yourself." Artemis said.

 

Artemis knelt and touched the ground as if looking for tracks. When she rose, she looked troubled. "So much danger. The beast must be found."

 

She sprinted toward the woods and melted into the snow and shadows.

 

Apollo turned and grinned, jangling the car keys on his finger. "So," he said. "Who wants to drive?"

 

The Hunters piled into the van. They all crammed into the back so they'd be as far away as possible from Apollo and the rest of the highly infectious males, Bianca sat with them, leaving her little brother to hang in the front with us, which seemed cold to me, but Nico didn't seem to mind.

 

"This is so cool!" Nico said, jumping up and down in the driver's seat. "Is this really the sun? I thought Helios and Selene were the sun and moon gods. How come sometimes it's them and sometimes it's you and Artemis?"

 

"Downsizing," Apollo said. "The Romans started it. They couldn't afford all those temple sacrifices, so they laid off Helios and Selene and folded their duties into our job descriptions. My sis got the moon. I got the sun. It was pretty annoying at first, but at least I got this cool car."

 

"But how does it work?" Nico asked. "I thought the sun was a big fiery ball of gas!"

 

Apollo chuckled and ruffled Nico's hair. "That rumor probably got started because Artemis used to call me a big fiery ball of gas. Seriously, kid, it depends on whether you're talking astronomy or philosophy. You want to talk astronomy? Bah, what fun is that? You want to talk about how humans think about the sun? Ah, now that's more interesting. They've got a lot riding on the sun… er, so to speak. It keeps them warm, grows their crops, powers engines, makes everything look, well, sunnier. This chariot is built out of human dreams about the sun, kid. It's as old as Western Civilization. Every day, it drives across the sky from east to west, lighting up all those puny little mortal lives. The chariot is a manifestation of the sun's power, the way mortals perceive it. Make sense?"

 

Nico shook his head. "No."

 

"Well then, just think of it as a really powerful, really dangerous solar car."

 

"Can I drive?"

 

"No. Too young."

 

"Oo! Oo!" Grover raised his hand.

 

"Mm, no," Apollo said. "Too furry." He looked past me and focused on Thalia.

 

"Daughter of Zeus!" he said. "Lord of the sky. Perfect."

 

"Oh, no." Thalia shook her head. "No, thanks."

 

"C'mon," Apollo said. "How old are you?"

 

Thalia hesitated. "I don't know."

 

It was sad, but true. She'd been turned into a tree when she was twelve, but that had been seven years ago. So she should be nineteen, if you went by years. But she still felt like she was twelve, and if you looked at her, she seemed somewhere in between. The best Chiron could figure, she had kept aging while in tree form, but much more slowly.

 

Apollo tapped his finger to his lips. "You're fifteen, almost sixteen."

 

"How do you know that?"

 

"Hey, I'm the god of prophecy. I know stuff. You'll turn sixteen in about a week."

 

"That's my birthday! December twenty-second."

 

"Which means you're old enough now to drive with a learner's permit!"

 

Thalia shifted her feet nervously. "Uh—"

 

"I know what you're going to say," Apollo said. "You don't deserve an honor like driving the sun chariot."

 

"That's not what I was going to say."

 

"Don't sweat it! Maine to Long Island is a really short trip, and don't worry about what happened to the last kid I trained. You're Zeus's daughter. He's not going to blast you out of the sky."

 

Apollo laughed good-naturedly. The rest of us didn't join him.

 

Thalia tried to protest, but Apollo was absolutely not going to take "no" for an answer. He hit a button on the dashboard, and a sign popped up along the top of the windshield. I had to read it backward. I was pretty sure it said WARNING: STUDENT DRIVER.

 

"Take it away!" Apollo told Thalia. "You're gonna be a natural!"

 

"Speed equals heat," Apollo advised. "So start slowly, and make sure you've got good altitude before you really open her up."

 

Thalia gripped the wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. She looked like she was going to be sick.

 

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

 

"Nothing," she said shakily. "N-nothing is wrong."

 

She pulled back on the wheel. It tilted, and the bus lurched upward so fast I fell back and crashed against something soft.

 

"Ow" Percy said.

 

"Sorry."

 

"Slower!" Apollo said.

 

"Sorry!" Thalia said. "I've got it under control!"

 

I managed to get to my feet. Looking out the window, I saw a smoking ring of trees from the clearing where we'd taken off.

 

"Thalia," Percy said, "lighten up on the accelerator."

 

"I've got it, Percy," she said, gritting her teeth. But she kept it floored.

 

"Loosen up," he told her.

 

"I'm loose!" Thalia said. She was so stiff she looked like she was made out of plywood.

 

"We need to veer south for Long Island," Apollo said. "Hang a left."

 

Thalia jerked the wheel and threw me into Grover, who yelped.

 

"The other left," Apollo suggested.

 

I made the mistake of looking out the window again. We were at airplane height now— so high the sky was starting to look black.

 

"Ah…" Apollo said, and I got the feeling he was forcing himself to sound calm. "A little lower, sweetheart. Cape Cod is freezing over."

 

Thalia tilted the wheel. Her face was chalk white, her forehead beaded with sweat. Something was definitely wrong. I'd never seen her like this.

 

The bus pitched down and somebody screamed. Now we were heading straight toward the Atlantic Ocean at a thousand miles an hour, the New England coastline off to our right. And it was getting hot in the bus.

 

Apollo had been thrown somewhere in the back of the bus, but he started climbing up the rows of seats.

 

"Take the wheel!" Grover begged him.

 

"No worries," Apollo said. He looked plenty worried. "She just has to learn to— WHOA!"

 

I saw what he was seeing. Down below us was a little snow-covered New England town. At least, it used to be snow-covered. As I watched, the snow melted off the trees and the roofs and the lawns. The white steeple on a church turned brown and started to smolder. Little plumes of smoke, like birthday candles, were popping up all over the town. Trees and rooftops were catching fire.

 

"Pull up!" I yelled.

 

There was a wild light in Thalia's eyes. She yanked back on the wheel, and I held on this time. As we zoomed up, I could see through the back window that the fires in the town were being snuffed out by the sudden blast of cold.

 

"There!" Apollo pointed. "Long Island, dead ahead. Let's slow down, dear. 'Dead' is only an expression."

 

Thalia was thundering toward the coastline of northern Long Island. There was Camp Half-Blood: the valley, the woods, the beach. I could see the dining pavilion and cabins and the amphitheater.

 

"I'm under control," Thalia muttered. "I'm under control."

 

We were only a few hundred yards away now.

 

"Brake," Apollo said.

 

"I can do this."

 

"BRAKE!"

 

Thalia slammed her foot on the brake, and the sun bus pitched forward at a forty-five degree angle, slamming into the Camp Half-Blood canoe lake with a huge FLOOOOOOSH! Steam billowed up, sending several frightened naiads scrambling out of the water with half woven wicker baskets.

 

The bus bobbed to the surface, along with a couple of capsized, half-melted canoes.

 

"Well," said Apollo with a brave smile. "You were right, my dear. You had everything under control! Let's go see if we boiled anyone important, shall we?"


	35. 35

The camp has the ultimate magic climate control. Nothing gets inside the borders unless the director, Mr. D, wants it to. I thought it would be warm and sunny, but instead the snow had been allowed to fall lightly. Frost covered the chariot track and the strawberry fields. The cabins were decorated with tiny flickering lights, like Christmas lights, except they seemed to be balls of real fire. More lights glowed in the woods, and weirdest of all, a fire flickered in the attic window of the Big House, where the Oracle dwelt, imprisoned in an old mummified body.

 

"Whoa," Nico said as he climbed off the bus. "Is that a climbing wall?"

 

"Yeah," I said.

 

"Why is there lava pouring down it?"

 

"Little extra challenge. Come on. Percy and I will introduce you to Chiron. Zoe, have you met—"

 

"I know Chiron," Zoe said stiffly. "Tell him we will be in Cabin Eight. Hunters, follow me."

 

"I'll show you the way," Grover offered.

 

"We know the way."

 

"Oh, really, it's no trouble. It's easy to get lost here, if you don't"—he tripped over a canoe and came up still talking—"like my old daddy goat used to say! Come on!"

 

Zoe rolled her eyes, but I guess she figured there was no getting rid of Grover. The Hunters shouldered their packs and their bows and headed off toward the cabins. As Bianca di Angelo was leaving, she leaned over and whispered something in her brothers ear. She looked at him for an answer, but Nico just scowled and turned away.

 

"Take care, sweethearts!" Apollo called after the Hunters.

 

"Bye Ariana! I'll see you later!" he smiled at me and winked at Percy. "Watch out for those prophecies, Percy. I'll see you soon."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

Instead of answering, he hopped back in the bus. "Later, Thalia," he called. "And, uh, be good!"

 

He gave her a wicked smile, as if he knew something she didn't. Then he closed the doors and revved the engine. I turned aside as the sun chariot took off in a blast of heat. When I looked back, the lake was steaming. A red Maserati soared over the woods, glowing brighter and climbing higher until it disappeared in a ray of sunlight.

 

Nico was still looking grumpy. I wondered what his sister had told him.

 

"Who's Chiron?" he asked. "I don't have his figurine."

 

"Our activities director," I said. "He's... well, you'll see."

 

"If those Hunter girls don't like him," Nico grumbled, "that's good enough for me. Let's go."

 

The camp was empty. Just the year-rounders would be here—the ones who didn't have homes to go to, or would get attacked by monsters too much if they left. But there didn't even seem to be many of them, either.

 

I spotted Charles Beckendorf from the Hephaestus cabin stoking the forge outside the camp armory. The Stoll brothers, Travis and Connor, from the Hermes cabin, were picking the lock on the camp store. A few kids from the Ares cabin were having a snowball fight with the wood nymphs at the edge of the forest. That was about it. Even Clarisse didn't seem to be around.

 

The Big House was decorated with strings of red and yellow fireballs that warmed the porch but didn't seem to catch anything on fire. Inside, flames crackled in the hearth. The air smelled like hot chocolate. Dionysus, the camp director, and Chiron were playing a quiet game of cards in the parlor.

 

Chiron's brown beard was shaggier for the winter. His curly hair had grown a little longer. He wasn't posing as a teacher this year, so I guess he could afford to be casual. He wore a fuzzy sweater with a hoofprint design on it, and he had a blanket on his lap that almost hid his wheelchair completely.

 

He smiled when he saw us. "Percy! Ariana! Thalia! Ah, and this must be—"

 

"Nico di Angelo," I said. "He and his sister are half-bloods."

 

Chiron breathed a sigh of relief. "You succeeded, then."

 

"Well..." His smile melted. "What's wrong? And where is Annabeth?"

 

"Oh, dear," Dionysus said in a bored voice, "Not another one lost."

 

I'd been trying not to pay attention to Dionysus, but he was kind of hard to ignore in his neon orange leopard-skin warm-up suit and his purple running shoes. (Like Dionysus had ever run a day in his immortal life.) A golden laurel wreath was tilted sideways on his curly black hair, which must've meant he'd won the last hand of cards.

 

"What do you mean?" Thalia asked. "Who else is lost?"

 

Just then, Grover trotted into the room, grinning like crazy. He had a black eye and red lines on his face that looked like a slap mark. "The Hunters are all moved in!"

 

Chiron frowned. "The Hunters, eh? I see we have much to talk about." He glanced at Nico. "Grover, perhaps you should take our young friend to the den and show him our orientation film."

 

"But... Oh, right. Yes, sir."

 

"Orientation film?" Nico asked. "Is it G or PG? 'Cause Bianca is kinda strict—"

 

"It's PG-13," Grover said.

 

"Cool!" Nico happily followed him out of the room.

 

"Now," Chiron said to Percy, Thalia, and I, "perhaps you three should sit down and tell us the whole story."  
When we were done, Chiron turned to Dionysus. "We should launch a search for Annabeth immediately."

 

"I'll go," Thalia, Percy, and I said at the same time.

 

Dionysus sniffed. "Certainly not!"

 

Thalia and Percy both started complaining, but Dionysus held up his hand. He had that purplish angry fire in his eyes that usually meant something bad and godly was going to happen if they didn't shut up.

 

"From what you have told me," Dionysus said, "we have broken even on this escapade. We have, ah, regrettably lost Annie Bell—"

 

"Annabeth," I snapped. She'd gone to camp since she was seven, and still Dionysus pretended not to know her name.

 

"Yes, yes," he said. "And you procured a small annoying boy to replace her. So I see no point risking further half-bloods on a ridiculous rescue. The possibility is very great that this Annie girl is dead."

 

I wanted to strangle Dionysus. It wasn't fair Zeus had sent him here to dry out as camp director for a hundred years. It was meant to be a punishment for Dionysus's bad behavior on Olympus, but it ended up being a punishment for all of us.

 

"Annabeth may be alive," Chiron said, but I could tell he was having trouble sounding upbeat. He'd practically raised Annabeth all those years she was a year-round camper, before she'd given living with her dad and stepmom a second try. "She's very bright. If... if our enemies have her, she will try to play for time. She may even pretend to cooperate."

 

"That's right," Thalia said. "Luke would want her alive."

 

"In which case," said Dionysus, "I'm afraid she will have to be smart enough to escape on her own."

 

Percy got up from the table.

 

"Percy." Chiron's tone was full of warning.

 

"You're glad to lose another camper," Percy said. "You'd like it if we all disappeared!"

 

Dionysus stifled a yawn. "You have a point?"

 

"Yeah," Percy growled. "Just because you were sent here as a punishment doesn't mean you have to be a lazy jerk! This is your civilization, too. Maybe you could try helping out a little!"

 

For a second, there was no sound except the crackle of the fire. The light reflected in Dionysus' eyes, giving him a sinister look. He opened his mouth to say something—probably a curse that would blast Percy to smithereens—when Nico burst into the room, followed by Grover.

 

"SO COOL!" Nico yelled, holding his hands out to Chiron. "You're... you're a centaur!"

 

Chiron managed a nervous smile. "Yes, Mr. di Angelo, if you please. Though, I prefer to stay in human form in this wheelchair for, ah, first encounters."

 

"And you're Ariana!" Nico looked at me, eyes wide.

 

"You'd be correct." I smile at him.

 

"And, whoa!" He looked at Dionysus. "You're the wine dude? No way!"

 

Dionysus turned his eyes away from Percy and gave Nico a look of loathing. "The wine dude?"

 

"Dionysus, right? Oh, wow! I've got your figurine."

 

"My figurine."

 

"In my game, Mythomagic. And a holofoil card, too! And even though you've only got like five hundred attack points and everybody thinks you're the lamest god card, I totally think your powers are sweet!"

 

"Ah." Dionysus seemed truly perplexed, which probably saved Percy's life. "Well, that's... gratifying."

 

"Percy," Chiron said quickly, "you, Thalia, and Ariana go down to the cabins. Inform the campers we'll be playing capture the flag tomorrow evening."

 

"Capture the flag?" Percy asked. "But we don't have enough—"

 

"It is a tradition," Chiron said. "A friendly match, whenever the Hunters visit."

 

"Yeah," Thalia muttered. "I bet it's real friendly."

 

Chiron jerked his head toward Dionysus, who was still frowning as Nico talked about how many defense points all the gods had in his game. "Run along now," Chiron told us.

 

"Oh, right," Thalia said. "Come on, Percy and Ariana."

 

She hauled us out of the Big House.

 

"You've already got Ares on your bad side," I reminded Percy as we trudged toward the cabins. "You need another immortal enemy?"

 

"Sorry," Percy said. "I couldn't help it. It's just so unfair."

 

Thalia stopped by the armory and looked out across the valley, toward the top of Half Blood Hill. Her pine tree was still there, the Golden Fleece glittering in its lowest branch. The tree's magic still protected the borders of camp, but it no longer used Thalia's spirit for power.

 

"Percy, everything is unfair," Thalia muttered. "Sometimes I wish..."

 

She didn't finish, but her tone was so sad I felt sorry for her. With her ragged black hair and her black punk clothes, an old wool overcoat wrapped around her, she looked like some kind of huge raven, completely out of place in the white landscape.

 

"We'll get Annabeth back," I promised. "I just don't know how yet."

 

"First I found out that Luke is lost," she said. "Now Annabeth—"

 

"Don't think like that."

 

"You're right." She straightened up. "We'll find a way."

 

Over at the basketball court, a few of the Hunters were shooting hoops. One of them was arguing with a guy from the Ares cabin. The Ares kid had his hand on his sword and the Hunter girl looked like she was going to exchange her basketball for a bow and arrow any second.

 

"I'll break that up," Thalia said. "You two circulate around the cabins. Tell everybody about capture the flag tomorrow."

 

"All right. You should be team captain." Percy said.

 

"No, no," she said. "You've been at camp longer. You do it."

 

"We can, uh... co-captain or something."

 

She nodded.

 

As she headed for the court, Percy said, "Hey, Thalia."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I'm sorry about what happened at Westover. I should've waited for you guys."

 

'"S okay, Percy. I probably would've done the same thing." She shifted from foot to foot, like she was trying to decide whether or not to say more. "You know, you asked about my mom and I kinda snapped at you. It's just... I went back to find her after seven years, and I found out she died in Los Angeles. She, um... she was a heavy drinker, and apparently she was out driving late one night about two years ago, and..." Thalia blinked hard.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"Yeah, well. It's... it's not like we were ever close. I ran away when I was ten. Best two years of my life were when I was running around with Luke and Annabeth. But still—"

 

"That's why you had trouble with the sun van."

 

She gave him a wary look. "What do you mean?"

 

"The way you stiffened up. You must've been thinking about your mom, not wanting to get behind the wheel."  
Thalia's expression was dangerously close to Zeus's, the times I'd seen him get angry—like any minute, her eyes would shoot a million volts.

 

"Yeah," she muttered. "Yeah, that must've been it."

 

She trudged off toward the court, where the Ares camper and the Hunter were trying to kill each other with a sword and a basketball.

 

"Well, I'm gonna go gather my thoughts and go to sleep," I told Percy. "Good luck."

 

I went to my cabin and changed. I couldn't believe Annabeth was gone. We had to get her back.


	36. 36

The next morning after breakfast, Percy told Grover and me about his dream. We sat in the meadow watching the satyrs chase the wood nymphs through the snow. The nymphs had promised to kiss the satyrs if they got caught, but they hardly ever did. Usually the nymph would let the satyr get up a full head of steam, then she'd turn into a snow-covered tree and the poor satyr would slam into it headfirst and get a pile of snow dumped on him.

 

When Percy told Grover and me his nightmare, Grover started twirling his finger in his shaggy leg fur.

 

"A cave ceiling collapsed on her?" he asked.

 

"Yeah. What the heck does that mean?"

 

Grover shook his head. "I don't know. But after what Zoe dreamed—"

 

"Whoa. What do you mean? Zoe had a dream like that?"

 

"I... I don't know, exactly. About three in the morning she came to the Big House and demanded to talk to Chiron. She looked really panicked."

 

"Wait, how do you know this?"

 

Grover blushed. "I was sort of camped outside the Artemis cabin."

 

"What for?"

 

"Just to be, you know, near them."

 

"You're a stalker with hooves."

 

"I am not! Anyway, I followed her to the Big House and hid in a bush and watched the whole thing. She got real upset when Argus wouldn't let her in. It was kind of a dangerous scene."

 

I tried to imagine that. Argus was the head of security for camp—a big blond dude with eyes all over his body. He rarely showed himself unless something serious was going on. I wouldn't want to place bets on a fight between him and Zoe Nightshade.

 

"What did she say?" I asked.

 

Grover grimaced. "Well, she starts talking really old-fashioned when she gets upset, so it was kind of hard to understand. But something about Artemis being in trouble and needing the Hunters. And then she called Argus a boil-brained lout... I think that's a bad thing. And then he called her—"

 

"Whoa, wait. How could Artemis be in trouble?" Percy asked.

 

"I... well, finally Chiron came out in his pajamas and his horse tail in curlers and—"

 

"He wears curlers in his tail?"

 

Grover covered his mouth.

 

"Sorry," Percy said. "Go on."

 

"Well, Zoe said she needed permission to leave camp immediately. Chiron refused. He reminded Zoe that the Hunters were supposed to stay here until they received orders from Artemis. And she said..." Grover gulped. "She said 'How are we to get orders from Artemis if Artemis is lost?'"

 

"What do you mean lost? Like she needs directions?"

 

"No. I think she meant gone. Taken. Kidnapped."

 

"Kidnapped?" Percy asked, astonished. "How would you kidnap an immortal goddess? Is that even possible?"

 

"Well, yeah. I mean, it happened to Persephone."

 

"But she was like, the goddess of flowers."

 

Grover looked offended. "Springtime."

 

"Whatever. Artemis is a lot more powerful than that. Who could kidnap her? And why?"

 

Grover shook his head miserably. "I don't know. Kronos?"

 

"He can't be that powerful already. Can he?"

 

The last time we'd seen Kronos, he'd been in tiny pieces. Well... we hadn't actually seen him. Thousands of years ago, after the big Titan—God war, the gods had sliced him to bits with his own scythe and scattered his remains in Tartarus, which is like the gods' bottomless recycling bin for their enemies. Two summers ago, Kronos had tricked us to the very edge of the pit and almost pulled us in. Then last summer, on board Luke's demon cruise ship, we'd seen a golden coffin, where Luke claimed he was summoning the Titan Lord out of the abyss, bit by bit, every time someone new joined their cause. Kronos could influence people with dreams and trick them, but I didn't see how he could physically overcome Artemis if he was still like a pile of evil bark mulch.

 

"I don't know," Grover said. "I think somebody would know if Kronos had re-formed. The gods would be more nervous. But still, it's weird, you having a nightmare the same night as Zoe. It's almost like—"

 

"They're connected," I said.

 

Over in the frozen meadow, a satyr skidded on his hooves as he chased after a redheaded tree nymph. She giggled and held out her arms as he ran toward her. Pop! She turned into a Scotch pine and he kissed the trunk at top speed.

 

"Ah, love," Grover said dreamily.

 

I thought about Zoe's nightmare.

 

"You've got to talk to Zoe," I said to Percy.

 

"Um, before you do..." Grover took something out of his coat pocket. It was a threefold display like a travel brochure. "You remember what you said—about how it was weird the Hunters just happened to show up at Westover Hall? I think they might've been scouting us."

 

"Scouting us? What do you mean?"

 

He gave Percy the brochure. It was about the Hunters of Artemis. The front read, A WISE CHOICE FOR YOUR FUTURE! Inside were pictures of young maidens doing hunter stuff, chasing monsters, shooting bows. There were captions like: HEALTH BENEFITS: IMMORTALITY AND WHAT IT MEANS FOR YOU! and A BOY-FREE TOMORROW!

 

"I found that in Annabeth's backpack," Grover said.

 

Percy stared at him. "I don't understand."

 

"Well, it seems to me... maybe Annabeth was thinking about joining."

* * *

I'd like to say I wasn't shocked, but I really was.

 

I couldn't believe Annabeth wouldn't tell me because she tells me everything.

 

That night after dinner, I was seriously ready to beat the Hunters at capture the flag. It was going to be a small game: only thirteen Hunters, including Bianca di Angelo, and about the same number of campers.

 

Zoe Nightshade looked pretty upset. She kept glancing resentfully at Chiron, like she couldn't believe he was making her do this. The other Hunters didn't look too happy, either. Unlike last night, they weren't laughing or joking around. They just huddled together in the dining pavilion, whispering nervously to each other as they strapped on their armor. Some of them even looked like they'd been crying. I guess Zoe had told them about her nightmare.

 

On our team, we had Beckendorf and two other Hephaestus guys, a few from the Ares cabin (though it still seemed strange that Clarisse wasn't around), the Stoll brothers and Nico from Hermes cabin, and a few Aphrodite kids. It was weird that the Aphrodite cabin wanted to play. Usually they sat on the sidelines, chatted, and checked their reflections in the river and stuff, but when they heard we were fighting the Hunters, they were raring to go.

 

"I'll show them 'love is worthless,'" Silena Beauregard grumbled as she strapped on her armor. "I'll pulverize them!"

 

That left Thalia, Percy, and me.

 

"I'll take the offense," Thalia volunteered. "You two take defense."

 

"Oh." Percy said. "Don't you think with your shield and all, you'd be better defense?"

 

Thalia already had Aegis on her arm, and even our own teammates were giving her a wide berth, trying not to cower before the bronze head of Medusa.

 

"Well, I was thinking it would make better offense," Thalia said. "Besides, you guys have had more practice at defense."

 

"Yeah, no problem."

 

"Cool." Thalia turned to help some of the Aphrodite kids, who were having trouble suiting up their armor without breaking their nails. Nico di Angelo ran up to me with a big grin on his face.

 

"Ariana, this is awesome!" His blue-feathered bronze helmet was falling in his eyes, and his breastplate was about six sizes too big.

 

Nico lifted his sword with effort. "Do we get to kill the other team?"

 

"Well... no."

 

"But the Hunters are immortal, right?"

 

"That's only if they don't fall in battle. Besides—"

 

"It would be awesome if we just, like, resurrected as soon as we were killed, so we could keep fighting, and—"

 

"Nico, this is serious. Real swords. These can hurt."

 

He stared at me, a little disappointed.

 

I patted Nico on the shoulder. "Hey, it's cool. Just follow the team. Stay out of Zoe's way. We'll have a blast."

 

Chiron's hoof thundered on the pavilion floor. "Heroes!" he called. "You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team— Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!"

 

"Sweet," Nico whispered next to me. "What kind of magic items? Do I get one?"

 

I was about to break it to him that he didn't, when Thalia said, "Blue team! Follow me!"

 

They cheered and followed. I had to run to catch up.

 

We set our flag at the top of Zeus's Fist. It's this cluster of boulders in the middle of the west woods that, if you look at it just the right way, looks like a huge fist sticking out of the ground.

 

Anyway, it was a good place to set the flag. The top boulder was twenty feet tall and really hard to climb, so the flag was clearly visible, like the rules said it had to be, and it didn't matter that the guards weren't allowed to stand within ten yards of it.

 

Percy set Nico on guard duty with Beckendorf and the Stoll brothers, figuring he'd be safely out of the way.

 

"We'll send out a decoy to the left," Thalia told the team. "Silena, you lead that."

 

"Got it!"

 

"Take Laurel and Jason. They're good runners. Make a wide arc around the Hunters, attract as many as you can. I'll take the main raiding party around to the right and catch them by surprise."

 

Everybody nodded. It sounded good, and Thalia said it with such confidence you couldn't help but believe it would work.

 

Thalia looked at Percy. "Anything to add, Percy?"

 

"Um, yeah. Keep sharp on defense. We've got five guards, two scouts. That's not much for a big forest. I'll be roving. Yell if you need help."

 

"And don't leave your post!" Thalia said.

 

"Unless you see a golden opportunity," Percy added.

 

Thalia scowled. "Just don't leave your post."

 

"Right, unless—"

 

"Percy!" She touched his arm and shocked him.

 

"Sorry," Thalia said, though she didn't sound particularly sorry. "Now, is everybody clear?"

 

Everybody nodded. We broke into our smaller groups. The horn sounded, and the game began.

Silena's group disappeared into the woods on the left. Thalia's group gave it a few seconds, then darted off toward the right.

 

I waited for something to happen. I climbed Zeus's Fist and had a good view over the forest. I remembered how the Hunters had stormed out of the woods when they fought the manticore, and I was prepared for something like that—one huge charge that could overwhelm us. But nothing happened.

I caught a glimpse of Silena and her two scouts. They ran through a clearing, followed by five of the Hunters, leading them deep into the woods and away from Thalia. The plan seemed to be working. Then I spotted another clump of Hunters heading to the right, bows ready. They must've spotted Thalia.

 

"What's happening?" Nico demanded, him and Percy trying to climb up next to me.

 

My mind was racing. Thalia would never get through, but the Hunters were divided. With that many on either flank, their center had to be wide open.

 

Percy looked at Beckendorf. "Can you guys hold the fort?"

 

Beckendorf snorted. "Of course."

 

"I'm going in."

 

The Stoll brothers, Nico, and I cheered as he raced toward the boundary line. He was running at top speed. Percy leaped over the creek into enemy territory.

 

I heard yelling so I nodded to Beckendorf, The Stoll brothers, and Nico and raced to the enemy side. There, I saw Percy sprawled in the snow.

 

"Percy, Ariana!" Thalia yelled, off to my left. "What are you doing?"

 

Before she reached us, an arrow exploded at her feet and a cloud of yellow smoke billowed around her team. They started coughing and gagging. I could smell the gas from across the woods—the horrible smell of sulfur.

 

"No fair!" Thalia gasped. "Fart arrows are unsportsmanlike!"

 

Percy got up and started running again. Only a few more yards to the creek and he had the game. More arrows whizzed past his ears. A Hunter came out of nowhere and slashed at him with her knife, but he parried and kept running.

 

I heard yelling from our side of the creek. Beckendorf and Nico were running toward Percy. I thought they were coming to welcome him back, but then I saw they were chasing someone—Zoe Nightshade, racing toward Percy like a cheetah, dodging campers with no trouble. And she had our flag in her hands.

 

"No!" Percy yelled, and poured on the speed.

 

He was two feet from the water when Zoe bolted across to her own side, slamming into him for good measure. The Hunters cheered as both sides converged on the creek. Chiron appeared out of the woods, looking grim. He had the Stoll brothers on his back, and it looked as if both of them had taken some nasty whacks to the head. Connor Stoll had two arrows sticking out of his helmet like antennae.

 

"The Hunters win!" Chiron announced without pleasure. Then he muttered, "For the fifty-sixth time in a row."

 

"Perseus Jackson!" Thalia yelled, storming toward him. She smelled like rotten eggs, and she was so mad that blue sparks flickered on her armor. Everybody cringed and backed up because of Aegis.

 

"What in the name of the gods were you THINKING?" she bellowed.

 

He balled his fists. "I got the flag, Thalia!" Percy shook it in her face. "I saw a chance and I took it!"

 

"I WAS AT THEIR BASE!" Thalia yelled. "But the flag was gone. If you hadn't butted in, we would've won."

 

"You had too many on you!"

 

"Oh, so it's my fault?"

 

"I didn't say that."

 

"Guys! Stop!" I yelled, rushing forward to get between them.

 

"Argh!" Thalia pushed Percy, and she blew him backward ten feet into the water. Some of the campers gasped. A couple of the Hunters stifled laughs.

 

"Sorry!" Thalia said, turning pale. "I didn't mean to—"

 

A wave erupted from the creek, blasting into Thalia's face and dousing her from head to toe.

 

Percy stood up. "Yeah," he growled. "I didn't mean to, either."

 

Thalia was breathing heavily.

 

"Enough!" Chiron ordered.

 

"Please, guys, stop!" I got between them.

 

Thalia held out her spear. "You want some, Seaweed Brain?"

 

Thalia pushed me aside, sending me into the water.

 

"Bring it on, Pinecone Face!"

 

Percy raised Riptide, but before he could even defend himself, Thalia yelled, and a blast of lightning came down from the sky, hit her spear like a lightning rod, and slammed into his chest.

 

Percy sat down hard. There was a burning smell.

 

"Thalia!" Chiron said. "That is enough!"

 

Percy got to his feet and willed the entire creek to rise. It swirled up, hundreds of gallons of water in a massive icy funnel cloud.

 

"Percy!" Chiron pleaded.

 

He was about to hurl it at Thalia. I saw something in the woods. The water splashed back into the creek bed. Thalia was so surprised she turned to see what everybody was looking at. Someone... something was approaching. It was shrouded in a murky green mist, but as it got closer, the campers and Hunters gasped.

 

"This is impossible," Chiron said. I'd never heard him sound so nervous. "It... she has never left the attic. Never."

 

And yet, the withered mummy that held the Oracle shuffled forward until she stood in the center of the group. Mist curled around our feet, turning the snow a sickly shade of green.

 

None of us dared move. Then her voice hissed inside my head. Several clutched their hands over the ears.

 

I am the spirit of Delphi, the voice said. Speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python.  
The Oracle regarded Percy with its cold, dead eyes. Then she turned unmistakably toward Zoe Nightshade. Approach, Seeker, and ask.

 

Zoe swallowed. "What must I do to help my goddess?"

 

The Oracle's mouth opened, and green mist poured out. I saw the vague image of a mountain, and a girl standing at the barren peak. It was Artemis, but she was wrapped in chains, fettered to the rocks. She was kneeling, her hands raised as if to fend off an attacker, and it looked like she was in pain. The Oracle spoke:

 

Five shall go west to the goddess in chains,  
One shall be lost in the land without rain,  
The bane of Olympus shows the trail,  
Campers and Hunters combined prevail,  
The Titan's curse must one withstand,  
And one shall perish by a parent's hand.

 

Then, as we were watching, the mist swirled and retreated like a great green serpent into the mummy's mouth. The Oracle sat down on a rock and became as still as she'd been in the attic, as if she might sit by this creek for a hundred years.


	37. 37

I followed Thalia as she tromped up the stairs. She was officially not talking to Percy now, but she looked at Grover and said, "Tell Percy to get his butt downstairs."

 

"Why?" Percy asked.

 

"Did he say something?" Thalia asked Grover.

 

"Um, he asked why."

 

"Dionysus is calling a council of cabin leaders to discuss the prophecy," she said. "Unfortunately, that includes Percy."

 

"The council was held around a Ping-Pong table in the rec room. Dionysus waved his hand and supplied snacks: Cheez Whiz, crackers, and several bottles of red wine. Then Chiron reminded him that wine was against his restrictions and most of us were underage. Dionysus sighed. With a snap of his fingers the wine turned to Diet Coke. Nobody drank that either.

 

Dionysus and Chiron (in wheelchair form) sat at one end of the table. Zoe and Bianca di Angelo (who had kind of become Zoe's personal assistant) took the other end. Thalia, Grover, Percy, and I sat along the right, and the other head councilors—Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, and the Stoll brothers—sat on the left. The Ares kids were supposed to send a representative, too, but all of them had gotten broken limbs (accidentally) during capture the flag, courtesy of the Hunters. They were resting up in the infirmary.

 

Zoe started the meeting off on a positive note. "This is pointless."

 

"Cheez Whiz!" Grover gasped. He began scooping up crackers and Ping-Pong balls and spraying them with topping.

 

"There is no time for talk," Zoe continued. "Our goddess needs us. The Hunters must leave immediately."

 

"And go where?" Chiron asked.

 

"West!" Bianca said. I was amazed at how different she looked after just a few days with the Hunters. Her dark hair was braided like Zoe's now, so you could actually see her face. She had a splash of freckles across her nose, and her dark eyes vaguely reminded me of someone famous, but I couldn't think who. She looked like she'd been working out, and her skin glowed faintly, like the other Hunters, as if she'd been taking showers in liquid moonlight. "You heard the prophecy. Five shall go west to the goddess in chains. We can get five hunters and go."

 

"Yes," Zoe agreed. "Artemis is being held hostage! We must find her and free her."

 

"You're missing something, as usual," Thalia said. "Campers and Hunters combined prevail. We're supposed to do this together."

 

"No!" Zoe said. "The Hunters do not need thy help."

 

"Your" Thalia grumbled. "Nobody has said thy in, like, three hundred years, Zoe. Get with the times."

 

Zoe hesitated, like she was trying to form the word correctly. "Yerrr. We do not need yerrr help."

 

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Forget it."

 

"I fear the prophecy says you do need our help," Chiron said. "Campers and Hunters must cooperate."

 

"Or do they?" Dionysus mused, swirling his Diet Coke under his nose like it had a fine bouquet. "One shall be lost. One shall perish. That sounds rather nasty, doesn't it? What if you fail because you try to cooperate?"

 

"Mr. D," Chiron sighed, "with all due respect, whose side are you on?"

 

Dionysus raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, my dear centaur. Just trying to be helpful."

 

"We're supposed to work together," Thalia said stubbornly. "I don't like it either, Zoe, but you know prophecies. You want to fight against one?"

 

Zoe grimaced, but I could tell Thalia had scored a point.

 

"We must not delay," Chiron warned. "Today is Sunday. This very Friday, December twenty-first, is the winter solstice."

 

"Oh, joy," Dionysus muttered. "Another dull annual meeting."

 

"Artemis must be present at the solstice," Zoe said. "She has been one of the most vocal on the council arguing for action against Kronos's minions. If she is absent, the gods will decide nothing. We will lose another year of war preparations."

 

"Are you suggesting that the gods have trouble acting together, young lady?" Dionysus asked.

 

"Yes, Lord Dionysus."

 

Dionysus nodded. "Just checking. You're right, of course. Carry on."

 

"I must agree with Zoe," said Chiron. "Artemis's presence at the winter council is critical. We have only a week to find her. And possibly even more important: to locate the monster she was hunting. Now, we must decide who goes on this quest."

 

"Three and two," Percy said.

 

Everybody looked at him.

 

"We're supposed to have five," he said. "Three Hunters, two from Camp Half-Blood. That's more than fair."

 

Thalia and Zoe exchanged looks.

 

"Well," Thalia said. "It does make sense."

 

Zoe grunted. "I would prefer to take all the Hunters. We will need strength of numbers."

 

"You'll be retracing the goddess's path," Chiron reminded her. "Moving quickly. No doubt Artemis tracked the scent of this rare monster, whatever it is, as she moved west. You will have to do the same. The prophecy was clear: The bane of Olympus shows the trail. What would your mistress say? 'Too many Hunters spoil the scent.' A small group is best."

 

Zoe picked up a Ping-Pong paddle and studied it like she was deciding who she wanted to whack first. "This monster—the bane of Olympus. I have hunted at Lady Artemis's side for many years, yet I have no idea what this beast might be."

 

Everybody looked at Dionysus and me, I guess because we were the only gods present and gods are supposed to know things. Dionysus was flipping through a wine magazine, but when everyone got silent he glanced up, "Well, don't look at me. I'm a young god, remember? I don't keep track of all those ancient monsters and dusty titans. They make for terrible party conversation."

 

"I haven't really kept track of what is happening, either." I shrug my shoulders.

 

"Chiron," Percy said, "you don't have any ideas about the monster?"

 

Chiron pursed his lips. "I have several ideas, none of them good. And none of them quite make sense. Typhon, for instance, could fit this description. He was truly a bane of Olympus. Or the sea monster Keto. But if either of these were stirring, we would know it. They are ocean monsters the size of skyscrapers. Your father, Poseidon, would already have sounded the alarm. I fear this monster may be more elusive. Perhaps even more powerful."

 

"That's some serious danger you're facing," Connor Stoll said. "It sounds like at least two of the five are going to die."

 

"One shall be lost in the land without rain," Beckendorf said. "If I were you, I'd stay out of the desert."

 

There was a muttering of agreement.

 

"And the Titan's curse must one withstand," Silena said. "What could that mean?"

 

I saw Chiron and Zoe exchange a nervous look, but whatever they were thinking, they didn't share it.

 

"One shall perish by a parent's hand," Grover said in between bites of Cheez Whiz and Ping-Pong balls. "How is that possible? Whose parent would kill them?"

 

There was heavy silence around the table.

 

Years ago, Chiron had had a prophecy about the next child of the Big Three—Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades—who turned sixteen. Supposedly, that kid would make a decision that would save or destroy the gods forever. Because of that, the Big Three had taken an oath after World War II not to have any more kids. But Thalia and Percy had been born anyway, and now they were both getting close to sixteen.

 

Could an Olympian parent turn against his half-blood child? Would it sometimes be easier just to let them die? If there were ever any half-bloods who needed to worry about that, it was Thalia and Percy.

 

"There will be deaths," Chiron decided. "That much we know."

 

"Oh, goody!" Dionysus said. Everyone looked at him. He glanced up innocently from the pages of Wine Connoisseur magazine. "Ah, pinot noir is making a comeback. Don't mind me."

 

"Percy is right," Silena Beauregard said. "Two campers should go."

 

"Oh, I see," Zoe said sarcastically. "And I suppose you wish to volunteer?"

 

Silena blushed. "I'm not going anywhere with the Hunters. Don't look at me!"

 

"A daughter of Aphrodite does not wish to be looked at," Zoe scoffed. "What would thy mother say?"

 

Silena started to get out of her chair, but the Stoll brothers pulled her back.

 

"Stop it," Beckendorf said. He was a big guy with a bigger voice. He didn't talk much, but when he did, people tended to listen. "Let's start with the Hunters. Which three of you will go?"

 

Zoe stood. "I shall go, of course, and I will take Phoebe. She is our best tracker."

 

"The big girl who likes to hit people on the head?" Travis Stoll asked cautiously.

 

Zoe nodded.

 

"The one who put the arrows in my helmet?" Connor added.

 

"Yes," Zoe snapped. "Why?"

 

"Oh, nothing," Travis said. "Just that we have a T-shirt for her from the camp store." He held up a big silver T-shirt that said ARTEMIS THE MOON GODDESS, FALL HUNTING TOUR 2002, with a huge list of national parks and stuff underneath. "It's a collector's item. She was admiring it. You want to give it to her?"

 

I knew the Stolls were up to something. They always were. But I guess Zoe didn't know them as well as I did. She just sighed and took the T-shirt. "As I was saying, I will take Phoebe. And I wish Bianca to go."

 

Bianca looked stunned. "Me? But... I'm so new. I wouldn't be any good."

 

"You will do fine," Zoe insisted. "There is no better way to prove thyself."

 

Bianca closed her mouth.

 

"And for campers?" Chiron asked. His eyes met mine, but I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

 

"Me!" Grover stood up so fast he bumped the Ping-Pong table. He brushed cracker crumbs and Ping-Pong ball scraps off his lap. "Anything to help Artemis!"

 

Zoe wrinkled her nose. "I think not, satyr. You are not even a half-blood."

 

"But he is a camper," Thalia said. "And he's got a satyr's senses and woodland magic. Can you play a tracker's song yet, Grover?"

 

"Absolutely!"

 

Zoe wavered.

 

"Very well," Zoe said. "And the second camper?"

 

"I'll go." Thalia stood and looked around, daring anyone to question her.

 

Now, okay, maybe my math skills weren't the best, but it suddenly occurred to me that we'd reached the number five, and Percy and I weren't in the group. "Whoa, wait a sec," I said. "I want to go too."

 

Thalia said nothing. Chiron was still studying me, his eyes sad.

 

"Oh," Grover said, suddenly aware of the problem. "Whoa, yeah, I forgot! You guys have to go. I didn't mean... I'll stay. Percy or Ariana should go in my place."

 

"Percy cannot," Zoe said. "He is a boy. I won't have Hunters traveling with a boy."

 

"You traveled here with me," Percy reminded her.

 

"That was a short-term emergency, and it was ordered by the goddess. I will not go across country and fight many dangers in the company of a boy."

 

"What about Grover?" he demanded.

 

Zoe shook her head. "He does not count. He's a satyr. He is not technically a boy."

 

"Hey!" Grover protested.

 

"I have to go," I said. "I need to be on this quest."

 

"Why?" Zoe asked. "Because of thy friend Annabeth?"

 

"No! I mean, partly. The other is because Artemis is my mother!"

 

Nobody rose to my defense. Dionysus looked bored, still reading his magazine. Silena, the Stoll brothers, and Beckendorf were staring at the table. Bianca gave me a look of pity.

 

"No," Zoe said flatly. "I insist upon this. I will take a satyr if I must, but not a male hero. Ariana needs to stay here to protect camp."

 

Chiron sighed. "The quest is for Artemis. The Hunters should be allowed to approve their companions."

 

My ears were ringing as I sat down. I knew Grover and some of the others were looking at me sympathetically, but I couldn't meet their eyes. I just sat there as Chiron concluded the council.

 

"So be it," he said. "Thalia and Grover will accompany Zoe, Bianca, and Phoebe. You shall leave at first light. And may the gods"—he glanced at Dionysus—"present company included, we hope—be with you."

 

I went to sleep that night without dinner.

* * *

 

I woke up suddenly to thumping on the door and changed. I opened the door to find Blackjack standing there.

 

"What do you need?" I whispered to him.

 

There's a sea friend that needs help.

 

"Alright, let's go get Percy. But first I need to grab some things."

 

I grabbed some items that I may need and we walked over to the Poseidon cabin. I pounded on the door.

 

"Hello?" Percy called.

 

He flung open the door.

 

"Ariana, Blackjack," Percy said. "It's the middle of the night!"

 

"A sea creature needs our help," I said. "Come on."

 

Percy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

 

Percy groaned.

 

"All right," Percy said. "I'm coming."


	38. 38

Blackjack gave us a ride down the beach, and I have to admit it was cool. Being on a flying horse, skimming over the waves at a hundred miles an hour with the wind in my hair and the sea spray in my face.

 

Here. Blackjack slowed and turned in a circle. Straight down.

 

"Thanks." Percy and I tumbled off his back and plunged into the icy sea.

 

I'd gotten more comfortable doing stunts like that the past couple of years. I could pretty much move however I wanted to underwater, just by willing the ocean currents to change around me and propel me along, I could breathe underwater, no problem, and my clothes never got wet unless I wanted them to.

 

We shot down into the darkness. Twenty, thirty, forty feet. The pressure wasn't uncomfortable.

 

As we got closer to the bottom, I saw three hippocampi—fish-tailed horses—swimming in a circle around an overturned boat. The hippocampi were beautiful to watch. Their fish tails shimmered in rainbow colors, glowing phosphorescent. Their manes were white, and they were galloping through the water the way nervous horses do in a thunderstorm. Something was upsetting them.

 

I got closer and saw the problem. A dark shape—some kind of animal—was wedged halfway under the boat and tangled in a fishing net, one of those big nets they use on trawlers to catch everything at once. I hated those things. It was bad enough they drowned porpoises and dolphins, but they also occasionally caught mythological animals. When the nets got tangled, some lazy fishermen would just cut them loose and let the trapped animals die.

 

Apparently this poor creature had been mucking around on the bottom of Long Island Sound and had somehow gotten itself tangled in the net of this sunken fishing boat. It had tried to get out and managed to get even more hopelessly stuck, shifting the boat in the process. Now the wreckage of the hull, which was resting against a big rock, was teetering and threatening to collapse on top of the tangled animal.

 

The hippocampi were swimming around frantically, wanting to help but not sure how. One was trying to chew the net, but hippocampi teeth just aren't meant for cutting rope. Hippocampi are really strong, but they don't have hands, and they're not all that smart.

 

Free it! A hippocampus said when it saw us. The others joined in, asking the same thing.

 

We swam in for a closer look at the tangled creature. At first I thought it was a young hippocampus. But then I heard a strange sound, something that did not belong underwater:

 

"Mooooooo!"

 

We got next to the thing and saw that it was a cow. I mean... I'd heard of sea cows, like manatees and stuff, but this really was a cow with the back end of a serpent. The front half was a calf—a baby, with black fur and big, sad brown eyes and a white muzzle—and its back half was a black-and-brown snaky tail with fins running down the top and bottom, like an enormous eel.

 

"Whoa, little one," I said. "Where did you come from?"

 

The creature looked at me sadly. "Moooo!"

 

But I couldn't understand its thoughts. I only speak horse.

 

We don't know what it is, one of the hippocampi said. Many strange things are stirring.

 

"Yeah," Percy murmured. "So I've heard."

 

Percy uncapped Riptide, and the sword grew to full length in his hands, its bronze blade gleaming in the dark.  
The cow serpent freaked out and started struggling against the net, its eyes full of terror.

 

"Whoa!" I said. "He's not going to hurt you! Just let him cut the net."

 

But the cow serpent thrashed around and got even more tangled. The boat started to tilt, stirring up the muck on the sea bottom and threatening to topple onto the cow serpent. The hippocampi whinnied in a panic and thrashed in the water, which didn't help.

 

"Okay, okay!" Percy said. He put away the sword and started speaking calmly so the hippocampi and the cow serpent would stop panicking. "It's cool. No sword. See? No sword. Calm thoughts. Sea grass. Mama cows. Vegetarianism."

 

I doubted the cow serpent understood what he was saying, but it responded to the tone of his voice. The hippocampi were still skittish, but they stopped swirling around us quite so fast.

 

Free it! they pleaded.

 

"Yeah," I said. "We got that part. I'm thinking."

 

But how could I free the cow serpent when she (I decided it was probably a "she") panicked at the sight of a blade? It was like she'd seen swords before and knew how dangerous they were.

 

"All right," I told the hippocampi. "I need all of you to push exactly the way I tell you."

 

First we started with the boat. It wasn't easy, but with the strength of horsepower, we managed to shift the wreckage so it was no longer threatening to collapse on the baby cow serpent. Then I went to work on the net, untangling it section by section, getting lead weights and fishing hooks straightened out, yanking out knots around the cow serpent's hooves. The whole time, I kept talking to the cow fish, telling her everything was okay while she mooed and moaned.

 

"It's okay, Bessie," I said. Don't ask me why I started calling her that. It just seemed like a good cow name. "Good cow. Nice cow."

 

Finally, the net came off and the cow serpent zipped through the water and did a happy somersault.

 

The hippocampi whinnied with joy. Thank you!

 

"Moooo!" The cow serpent nuzzled me and gave me the big brown eyes.

 

"Yeah," I said. "That's okay. Nice cow. Well... stay out of trouble."

 

Which reminded me, we'd been underwater how long? An hour, at least. We had to get back to our cabins before Argus or the harpies discovered we were breaking curfew.

 

Percy and I shot to the surface and broke through. Immediately, Blackjack zoomed down and let us catch hold of his neck. He lifted us into the air and took us back toward the shore.

 

Success?

 

"Yeah. We rescued a baby... something or other. Took forever. Almost got stampeded." Percy said.

 

Good deeds are always dangerous. You saved my sorry mane, didn't you?

 

As Blackjack flew back toward Percy's cabin, I happened to glance at the dining pavilion. I saw a figure—a boy hunkered down behind a Greek column, like he was hiding from someone.

 

It was Nico, but it wasn't even dawn yet. Nowhere near time for breakfast. What was he doing up there?  
I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was more time for Nico to tell me about his Mythomagic game. But something was wrong. I could tell by the way he was crouching.

 

"Blackjack," I said, "set us down over there, will you? Behind that column."

 

We were coming up the steps behind Nico. He didn't see us at all. He was behind a column, peeking around the corner, all his attention focused on the dining area. We were five feet away from him, and I was about to say What are you doing? real loud, when it occurred to me that he was pulling Grover: he was spying on the Hunters.  
There were voices—two girls talking at one of the dining tables.

 

Percy took Annabeth's magic cap out of my pocket and put it on.

 

We crept up to Nico and sneaked around him. I couldn't see the girls very well in the dark, but I knew their voices: Zoe and Bianca. It sounded like they were arguing.

 

"It cannot be cured," Zoe was saying. "Not quickly, at any rate."

 

"But how did it happen?" Bianca asked.

 

"A foolish prank," Zoe growled. "Those Stoll boys from the Hermes cabin. Centaur blood is like acid. Everyone knows that. They sprayed the inside of that Artemis Hunting Tour T-shirt with it."

 

"That's terrible!"

 

"She will live," Zoe said. "But she'll be bedridden for weeks with horrible hives. There is no way she can go. It's up to me... and thee."

 

"But the prophecy," Bianca said. "If Phoebe can't go, we only have four. We'll have to pick another."

 

"There is no time," Zoe said. "We must leave at first light. That's immediately. Besides, the prophecy said we would lose one."

 

"In the land without rain," Bianca said, "but that can't be here."

 

"It might be," Zoe said, though she didn't sound convinced. "The camp has magic borders. Nothing, not even weather, is allowed in without permission. It could be a land without rain."

 

"But—"

 

"Bianca, hear me." Zoe's voice was strained. "I... I can't explain, but I have a sense that we should not pick someone else. It would be too dangerous. They would meet an end worse than Phoebe's. I don't want Chiron choosing a camper as our fifth companion. And... I don't want to risk another Hunter."

 

Bianca was silent. "You should tell Thalia the rest of your dream."

 

"No. It would not help."

 

"But if your suspicions are correct, about the General—"

 

"I have thy word not to talk about that," Zoe said. She sounded really anguished. "We will find out soon enough. Now come. Dawn is breaking."

 

Nico scooted out of their way. He was faster than Percy.

 

As the girls sprinted down the steps, Zoe almost ran into him. She froze, her eyes narrowing. Her hand crept toward her bow, but then Bianca said, "The lights of the Big House are on. Hurry!"

 

And Zoe followed her out of the pavilion.

 

I could tell what Nico was thinking. He took a deep breath and was about to run after his sister when I stepped out of the shadows, "Wait."

 

Percy took off the invisibility cap.

 

He almost slipped on the icy steps as he spun around to find me. "Where did you two come from?"

 

"We've been here the whole time."

 

"Wow. Cool."

 

"How did you know Zoe and your sister were here?"

 

He blushed. "I heard them walk by the Hermes cabin. I don't... I don't sleep too well at camp. So I heard footsteps, and them whispering. And so I kind of followed."

 

"And now you're thinking about following them on the quest," I guessed.

 

"How did you know that?"

 

"Because if it was my sister, I'd probably be thinking the same thing. But you can't."

 

He looked defiant. "Because I'm too young?"

 

"Because they won't let you. They'll catch you and send you back here. And... yeah, because you're too young. You remember the manticore? There will be lots more like that. More dangerous. Some of the heroes will die."

 

He shoulders sagged. He shifted from foot to foot. "Maybe you're right. But, but you guys can go for me."

 

"Say what?" Percy asked.

 

"You can turn invisible. You can go!"

 

"The Hunters don't like boys," Percy reminded him. "If they find out—"

 

"Don't let them find out. Follow them invisibly. Keep an eye on my sister! You have to. Please?"

 

"Nico—"

 

"You're planning to go anyway, aren't you?"

 

"Yeah," Percy said. "I have to find Annabeth. I have to help, even if they don't want me to."

 

"I won't tell on you guys," he said. "But you have to promise to keep my sister safe."

 

"I... that's a big thing to promise, Nico, on a trip like this. Besides, she's got Zoe, Grover, and Thalia—"

 

"Promise," he insisted.

 

"We'll do our best. I promise that."

 

"Get going, then!" he said. "Good luck!"

 

It was crazy. I wasn't packed. I had nothing but Kairos, Amaranthine, and Nikao and the clothes I was wearing. "Tell Chiron—"

 

"I'll make something up." Nico smiled crookedly. "I'm good at that. Go on!"

 

I ran, and Percy put on Annabeth's cap. As the sun came up, he turned invisible. We hit the top of Half-Blood Hill in time to see the camp's van disappearing down the farm road, probably Argus taking the quest group into the city. After that they would be on their own.

 

I heard the beating of huge wings. Blackjack landed next to us. He began casually nuzzling a few tufts of grass that stuck through the ice.

 

If I was guessing, I'd say you guys need a getaway horse. You interested?

 

"Yeah. Let's fly." Percy said.


	39. 39

The thing about flying on a pegasus during the daytime is that if you're not careful, you can cause a serious traffic accident on the Long Island Expressway. We had to keep Blackjack up in the clouds, which were, fortunately, pretty low in the winter. We darted around, trying to keep the white Camp Half-Blood van in sight. And if it was cold on the ground, it was seriously cold in the air, with icy rain stinging my skin.

 

We lost the van twice, but I had a pretty good sense that they would go into Manhattan first, so it wasn't too difficult to pick up their trail again.

 

Traffic was bad with the holidays and all. It was mid morning before they got into the city. We landed Blackjack near the top of the Chrysler Building and watched the white camp van, thinking it would pull into the bus station, but it just kept driving.

 

"Where's Argus taking them?" Percy muttered behind me.

 

Oh, Argus ain't driving, Blackjack told him. That girl is.

 

"Which girl?"

 

The Hunter girl. With the silver crown thing in her hair.

 

"Zoe?"

 

That's the one. Hey, look! There's a donut shop. Can we get something to go?

 

Percy tried explaining to Blackjack that taking a flying horse to a donut shop would give every cop in there a heart attack, but he didn't seem to get it. Meanwhile, the van kept snaking its way toward the Lincoln Tunnel. It had never even occurred to me that Zoe could drive.

 

"Well," I said. "Lets get after them."

 

We were about to leap off the Chrysler Building when Blackjack whinnied in alarm and almost threw us. Something was curling around Percy and I's legs like a snake. I reached for my dagger, but when I looked down, there was no snake. Vines—grape vines—had sprouted from the cracks between the stones of the building. They were wrapping around Blackjack's legs, lashing down our ankles so we couldn't move

 

"Going somewhere?" Dionysus asked.

 

He was leaning against the building with his feet levitating in the air, his leopard-skin warm-up suit and black hair whipping around in the wind.

 

God alert! Blackjack yelled. It's the wine dude!

 

Dionysus sighed in exasperation. "The next person, or horse, who calls me the 'wine dude' will end up in a bottle of Merlot!"

 

"Dionysus," I tried to keep my voice calm as the grape vines continued to wrap around my legs. "What do you want?"

 

The grape vines coiled tighter around me. Below us, the white van was getting farther and farther away. Soon it would be out of sight."Oh, what do I want? You thought, perhaps, that the immortal, all-powerful director of camp would not notice you leaving without permission?"

 

"Well... maybe." Percy said.

 

"I should throw you off this building, minus the flying horse, and see how heroic you sound on the way down."

 

"Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"

 

Purple flames flickered in his eyes. "You're a hero, boy. I need no other reason."

 

"I have to go on this quest! I've got to help my friends. That's something you wouldn't understand!"

 

Um, boss, Blackjack said nervously. Seeing as how we're wrapped in vines nine hundred feet in the air, you might want to talk nice.

 

"Did I ever tell you about Ariadne?" Dionysus asked. "Beautiful young princess of Crete? She liked helping her friends, too. In fact, she helped a young hero named Theseus, also a son of Poseidon. She gave him a ball of magical yarn that let him find his way out of the Labyrinth. And do you know how Theseus rewarded her?"

 

"They got married," Percy said. "Happily ever after. The end."

 

Dionysus sneered. "Not quite. Theseus said he would marry her. He took her aboard his ship and sailed for Athens. Halfway back, on a little island called Naxos, he... What's the word you mortals use today?... he dumped her. I found her there, you know. Alone. Heartbroken. Crying her eyes out. She had given up everything, left everything she knew behind, to help a dashing young hero who tossed her away like a broken sandal."

 

"That's wrong," Percy said. "But that was thousands of years ago. What's that got to do with me?"

 

Dionysus regarded him coldly. "I fell in love with Ariadne, boy. I healed her broken heart. And when she died, I made her my immortal wife on Olympus. She waits for me even now. I shall go back to her when I am done with this infernal century of punishment at your ridiculous camp."

 

Percy stared at him. "You're... you're married? But I thought you got in trouble for chasing a wood nymph—"

 

"My point is you heroes never change. You accuse us gods of being vain. You should look at yourselves. You take what you want, use whoever you have to, and then you betray everyone around you. So you'll excuse me if I have no love for heroes. They are a selfish, ungrateful lot. Ask Ariadne. Or Medea. For that matter, ask Zoe Nightshade."

 

"What do you mean, ask Zoe?"

 

He waved his hand dismissively. "Go. Follow your silly friends."

 

The vines uncurled around our legs.

 

"You're... you're letting us go? Just like that?" Percy asked.

 

"The prophecy says at least two of you will die. Perhaps I'll get lucky and you'll be one of them. But mark my words, Son of Poseidon, live or die, you will prove no better than the other heroes."

 

With that, Dionysus snapped his fingers. His image folded up like a paper display. There was a pop and he was gone, leaving a faint scent of grapes that was quickly blown away by the wind.

 

Too close, Blackjack said.

 

I nodded, though I almost would have been less worried if Dionysus had hauled us back to camp. The fact that he'd let us go meant he really believed we stood a fair chance of crashing and burning on this quest.

 

"Come on, Blackjack," I said, trying to sound upbeat. "We'll buy you some donuts in New Jersey."

 

As it turned out, we didn't buy Blackjack donuts in New Jersey. Zoe drove south like a crazy person, and we were into Maryland before she finally pulled over at a rest stop. Blackjack darn near tumbled out of the sky, he was so tired.

 

I'll be okay, he panted. Just... just catching my breath.

 

"Stay here," I told him. "We're going to scout."

 

'Stay here' I can handle. I can do that.

 

Percy put on his cap of invisibility and I turned invisible myself. We walked over to the convenience store.

 

Zoe, Thalia, Bianca, and Grover all came out of the store.

 

"Grover, are you sure?" Thalia was saying.

 

"Well... pretty sure. Ninety-nine percent. Okay, eighty-five percent."

 

"And you did this with acorns?" Bianca asked, like she couldn't believe it.

 

Grover looked offended. "It's a time-honored tracking spell. I mean, I'm pretty sure I did it right."

 

"D.C. is about sixty miles from here," Bianca said. "Nico and I..." She frowned. "We used to live there. That's... that's strange. I'd forgotten."

 

"I dislike this," Zoe said. "We should go straight west. The prophecy said west."

 

"Oh, like your tracking skills are better?" Thalia growled.

 

Zoe stepped toward her. "You challenge my skills, you scullion? You know nothing of being a Hunter!"

 

"Oh, scullion You're calling me a scullion? What the heck is a scullion?"

 

"Whoa, you two," Grover said nervously. "Come on. Not again!"

 

"Grover's right," Bianca said. "D.C. is our best bet."

 

Zoe didn't look convinced, but she nodded reluctantly. "Very well. Let us keep moving."

 

"You're going to get us arrested, driving," Thalia grumbled. "I look closer to sixteen than you do."

 

"Perhaps," Zoe snapped. "But I have been driving since automobiles were invented. Let us go."

 

Blackjack, Percy, and I continued south, following the van.

 

As we got closer to Washington, Blackjack started slowing down and dropping altitude. He was breathing heavily.

 

"You okay?" Percy asked him.

 

Fine. I could... I could take on an army.

 

"You don't sound so good."

 

And suddenly I felt guilty, because I'd been running the pegasus for half a day, nonstop, trying to keep up with highway traffic. Even for a flying horse, that had to be rough.

 

Don't worry about me! I'm a tough one.

 

I figured he was right, but I also figured Blackjack would run himself into the ground before he complained, and I didn't want that.

 

Fortunately, the van started to slow down. It crossed the Potomac River into central Washington. I started thinking about air patrols and missiles and stuff like that. I didn't know exactly how all those defenses worked, and wasn't sure if pegasi even showed up on your typical military radar, but I didn't want to find out by getting shot out of the sky.

 

"Set us down there," I told Blackjack. "That's close enough."

 

Blackjack was so tired he didn't complain. He dropped toward the Washington Monument and set us on the grass.  
The van was only a few blocks away. Zoe had parked at the curb.

 

I looked at Blackjack. "I want you to go back to camp. Get some rest. Graze. We'll be fine."

 

Blackjack cocked his head skeptically. You sure?

 

"You've done enough already," I said. "We'll be fine. And thanks a ton."

 

A ton of hay, maybe, Blackjack mused. That sounds good. All right, but be careful.

 

I promised we would be careful. Then Blackjack took off, circling twice around the monument before disappearing into the clouds.

 

I looked over at the white van. Everybody was getting out. Grover pointed toward one of the big buildings lining the Mall. Thalia nodded, and the four of them trudged off into the cold wind.

 

Percy and I started to follow. But then I froze.

 

A block away, the door of a black sedan opened. A man with gray hair and a military buzz cut got out. He was wearing dark shades and a black overcoat. Now, maybe in Washington, you'd expected guys like that to be everywhere. But it dawned on me that I'd seen this same car a couple of times on the highway, going south. It had been following the van.

 

The guy took out his mobile phone and said something into it. Then he looked around, like he was making sure the coast was clear, and started walking down the Mall in the direction of my friends.

 

The worst of it was: when he turned toward us, I recognized his face. It was Dr. Thorn, the manticore from Westover Hall.

 

Invisibility on, Percy and I followed Thorn from a distance. My heart was pounding. If he had survived that fall from the cliff, then Annabeth must have too.

 

Thorn kept well back from my friends, careful not to be seen.

 

Finally, Grover stopped in front of a big building that said NATIONAL AIR AND SPACE MUSEUM.

 

Thalia checked the door. It was open, but there weren't many people going in. Too cold, and school was out of session. They slipped inside.

 

Dr. Thorn hesitated. I wasn't sure why, but he didn't go into the museum. He turned and headed across the Mall. We made a split-second decision and followed him.

 

Thorn crossed the street and climbed the steps of the Museum of Natural History. There was a big sign on the door. It said CLOSED FOR PRIVATE EVENT.

 

We followed Dr. Thorn inside, through a huge chamber full of mastodons and dinosaur skeletons. There were voices up ahead, coming from behind a set of closed doors. Two guards stood outside. They opened the doors for Thorn, and we had to sprint to get inside before they closed them again.

 

Inside, what I saw was so terrible I almost gasped out loud, which probably would've gotten me killed.

 

We were in a huge round room with a balcony ringing the second level. At least a dozen mortal guards stood on the balcony, plus two monsters—reptilian women with double-snake trunks instead of legs.

 

But that wasn't the worse of it. Standing between the snake women—I could swear he was looking straight down at us—was Luke. He looked terrible. His skin was pale and his blond hair looked almost gray, as if he'd aged ten years in just a few months. The angry light in his eyes was still there, and so was the scar down the side of his face, where a dragon had once scratched him. But the scar was now ugly red, as though it had recently been reopened.  
Next to him, sitting down so that the shadows covered him, was another man. All I could see were his knuckles on the gilded arms of his chair, like a throne.

 

"Well?" asked the man in the chair. His voice was just like the one I'd heard in my dream—not as creepy as Kronos's, but deeper and stronger, like the earth itself was talking. It filled the whole room even though he wasn't yelling.

 

Dr. Thorn took off his shades. His two-colored eyes, brown and blue, glittered with excitement. He made a stiff bow, then spoke in his weird French accent: "They are here, General."

 

"I know that, you fool," boomed the man. "But where?"

 

"In the rocket museum."

 

"The Air and Space Museum," Luke corrected irritably.

 

Dr. Thorn glared at Luke. "As you say, sir."

 

I got the feeling Thorn would just as soon impale Luke with one of his spikes as call him sir.

 

"How many?" Luke asked.

 

Thorn pretended not to hear.

 

"How many?" the General demanded.

 

"Four, General," Thorn said. "The satyr, Grover Underwood. And the girl with the spiky black hair and the—how do you say—punk clothes and the horrible shield."

 

"Thalia," Luke said. "And two other girls—Hunters. One wears a silver circlet."

 

"That one I know," the General growled. Everyone in the room shifted uncomfortably.

 

"Let me take them," Luke said to the General. "We have more than enough—"

 

"Patience," the General said. "They'll have their hands full already. I've sent a little playmate to keep them occupied."

"But—"

 

"We cannot risk you, my boy."

 

"Yes, boy," Dr. Thorn said with a cruel smile. "You are much too fragile to risk. Let me finish them off."

 

"No." The General rose from his chair, and I got my first look at him.

 

He was tall and muscular, with light brown skin and slicked-back dark hair. He wore an expensive brown silk suit like the guys on Wall Street wear, but you'd never mistake this dude for a broker. He had a brutal face, huge shoulders, and hands that could snap a flagpole in half. His eyes were like stone. I felt as if I were looking at a living statue. It was amazing he could even move.

 

"You have already failed me, Thorn," he said.

 

"But, General—"

 

"No excuses!"

 

Thorn flinched. I'd thought Thorn was scary when I first saw him in his black uniform at the military academy. But now, standing before the General, Thorn looked like a silly wannabe soldier. The General was the real deal. He didn't need a uniform. He was a born commander.

 

"I should throw you into the pits of Tartarus for your incompetence," the General said. "I send you to capture a child of the three elder gods and the daughter, and you bring me a scrawny daughter of Athena."

 

"But you promised me revenge.'" Thorn protested. "A command of my own!"

 

"I am Lord Kronos's senior commander," the General said. "And I will choose lieutenants who get me results! It was only thanks to Luke that we salvaged our plan at all. Now get out of my sight, Thorn, until I find some other menial task for you."

 

Thorn's face turned purple with rage. I thought he was going to start frothing at the mouth or shooting spines, but he just bowed awkwardly and left the room.

 

"Now, my boy." The General turned to Luke. "The first thing we must do is isolate the half-blood Thalia. The monster we seek will then come to her."

 

"The Hunters will be difficult to dispose of," Luke said. "Zoe Nightshade—"

 

"Do not speak her name!"

 

Luke swallowed. "S—sorry, General. I just—"

 

The General silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Let me show you, my boy, how we will bring the Hunters down."

 

He pointed to a guard on the ground level. "Do you have the teeth?"

 

The guy stumbled forward with a ceramic pot. "Yes, General!"

 

"Plant them," he said.

 

In the center of the room was a big circle of dirt, where I guess a dinosaur exhibit was supposed to go. I watched nervously as the guard took sharp white teeth out of the pot and pushed them into the soil. He smoothed them over while the General smiled coldly.

 

The guard stepped back from the dirt and wiped his hands. "Ready, General!"

 

"Excellent! Water them, and we will let them scent their prey."

 

The guard picked up a little tin watering can with daisies painted on it, which was kind of bizarre, because what he poured out wasn't water. It was dark red liquid, and I got the feeling it wasn't Hawaiian Punch.

 

The soil began to bubble. "Soon," the General said, "I will show you, Luke, soldiers that will make your army from that little boat look insignificant."

 

Luke clenched his fists. "I've spent a year training my forces! When the Princess Andromeda arrives at the mountain, they'll be the best—"

 

"Ha.'" the General said. "I don't deny your troops will make a fine honor guard for Lord Kronos. And you, of course, will have a role to play—" I thought Luke turned paler when the General said that. "—but under my leadership, the forces of Lord Kronos will increase a hundredfold. We will be unstoppable. Behold, my ultimate killing machines."

 

The soil erupted. I stepped back nervously.

 

In each spot where a tooth had been planted, a creature was struggling out of the dirt. The first of them said:  
"Mew?"

 

It was a kitten. A little orange tabby with stripes like a tiger. Then another appeared, until there were a dozen, rolling around and playing in the dirt. Everyone stared at them in disbelief. The General roared, "What is this? Cute cuddly kittens? Where did you find those teeth?"

 

The guard who'd brought the teeth cowered in fear. "From the exhibit, sir! Just like you said. The saber-toothed tiger—"

 

"No, you idiot! I said the tyrannosaurus! Gather up those... those infernal fuzzy little beasts and take them outside. And never let me see your face again."

 

The terrified guard dropped his watering can. He gathered up the kittens and scampered out of the room.

 

"You." The General pointed to another guard. "Get me the right teeth. NOW!"

 

The new guard ran off to carry out his orders.

 

"Imbeciles," muttered the General.

 

"This is why I don't use mortals," Luke said. "They are unreliable."

 

"They are weak-minded, easily bought, and violent," the General said. "I love them."

 

A minute later, the guard hustled into the room with his hands full of large pointy teeth.

 

"Excellent," the General said. He climbed onto the balcony railing and jumped down, twenty feet. Where he landed, the marble floor cracked under his leather shoes. He stood, wincing, and rubbed his shoulders. "Curse my stiff neck."

 

"Another hot pad, sir?" a guard asked. "More Tylenol?"

 

"No! It will pass." The General brushed off his silk suit, then snatched up the teeth. "I shall do this myself."

 

He held up one of the teeth and smiled. "Dinosaur teeth—ha! Those foolish mortals don't even know when they have dragon teeth in their possession. And not just any dragon teeth. These come from the ancient Sybaris herself! They shall do nicely."

 

He planted them in the dirt, twelve in all. Then he scooped up the watering can. He sprinkled the soil with red liquid, tossed the can away, and held his arms out wide. Rise!

 

The dirt trembled. A single, skeletal hand shot out of the ground, grasping at the air.

 

The General looked up at the balcony.

 

"Quickly, do you have the scent?"

 

"Yesssss, lord," one of the snake ladies said. She took out a sash of silvery fabric, like the kind the Hunters wore.

 

"Excellent," the General said. "Once my warriors catch its scent, they will pursue its owner relentlessly. Nothing can stop them, no weapons known to half-blood or Hunter. They will tear the Hunters and their allies to shreds. Toss it here!"

 

As he said that, skeletons erupted from the ground. There were twelve of them, one for each tooth the General had planted. They were nothing like Halloween skeletons, or the kind you might see in cheesy movies. These were growing flesh as I watched, turning into men, but men with dull gray skin, yellow eyes, and modern clothes—gray muscle shirts, camo pants, and combat boots. If you didn't look too closely, you could almost believe they were human, but their flesh was transparent and their bones shimmered underneath, like X-ray images.

 

One of them looked straight at us, regarding us coldly, and I knew that no invisibility would fool it.

 

The snake lady released the scarf and it fluttered down toward the General's hand. As soon as he gave it to the warriors, they would hunt Zoe and the others until they were extinct.

 

I didn't have time to think. I ran and jumped with all my might, plowing into the warriors and snatching the scarf out of the air.

 

"What's this?" bellowed the General.

 

I landed at the feet of a skeleton warrior, who hissed.

 

"Intruders," the General growled. "Two cloaked in darkness. Seal the doors!"

 

"It's Percy Jackson or Ariana!" Luke yelled. "It has to be."

 

Percy and I sprinted for the exit, but heard a ripping sound and realized the skeleton warrior had taken a chunk out of our sleeves. When I glanced back, he was holding the fabrics up to his nose, sniffing the scent, handing it around to his friends. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. We squeezed through the door just as the guards slammed it shut behind us.

 

And then we ran.


	40. 40

We tore across the Mall, and I did not dare look behind me. We burst into the Air and Space Museum and Percy took off his invisibility cap once we were through the admissions area.

 

The main part of the museum was one huge room with rockets and airplanes hanging from the ceiling. Three levels of balconies curled around, so you could look at the exhibits from all different heights. The place wasn't crowded, just a few families and a couple of tour groups of kids, probably doing one of those holiday school trips. I wanted to yell at them all to leave, but I figured that would only get me arrested. We had to find Thalia and Grover and the Hunters. Any minute, the skeleton dudes were going to invade the museum, and I didn't think they would settle for an audio tour.

 

We ran into Thalia—literally. We were barreling up the ramp to the top-floor balcony and slammed into her, knocking her into an Apollo space capsule.

 

Grover yelped in surprise.

 

Before I could regain my balance, Zoe and Bianca had arrows notched, aimed at our chests. Their bows had just appeared out of nowhere.

 

When Zoe realized who we were, she didn't seem anxious to lower her bow. "You two! How dare you show thy face here?"  
"Percy and Ariana!" Grover said. "Thank goodness."

Zoe glared at him, and he blushed. "I mean, um, gosh. You're not supposed to be here!"

"Luke," I said, trying to catch my breath. "He's here."

The anger in Thalia's eyes immediately melted. She put her hand on her silver bracelet. "Where?"  
I told them about the Natural History Museum, Dr. Thorn, Luke, and the General.

"The General is here?" Zoe looked stunned. "That is impossible! You lie."

"Why would I lie? Look, there's no time. Skeleton warriors—"

"What?" Thalia demanded. "How many?"

"Twelve," I said. "And that's not all. That guy, the General, he said he was sending something, a 'playmate,' to distract you over here. A monster."

Thalia and Grover exchanged looks.

"We were following Artemis's trail," Grover said. "I was pretty sure it led here. Some powerful monster scent... She must've stopped here looking for the mystery monster. But we haven't found anything yet."

"Zoe," Bianca said nervously, "if it is the General—"

"It cannot be!" Zoe snapped. "They must have seen an Iris-message or some other illusion."

"Illusions don't crack marble floors," I told her.

Zoe took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "If they are telling the truth about the skeleton warriors," she said, "we have no time to argue. They are the worst, the most horrible... We must leave now."

"Good idea," Percy said.

"I was not including thee, boy," Zoe said. "You are not part of this quest."

"Hey, I'm trying to save your lives!"

"You shouldn't have come, guys," Thalia said grimly. "But you're here now. Come on. Let's get back to the van."

"That is not thy decision!" Zoe snapped.

Thalia scowled at her. "You're not the boss here, Zoe. I don't care how old you are! You're still a conceited little brat!"

"You never had any wisdom when it came to boys," Zoe growled. "You never could leave them behind!"  
Thalia looked like she was about to hit Zoe. Then everyone froze, I heard a growl so loud I thought one of the rocket engines was starting up.

Below us, a few adults screamed. A little kid's voice screeched with delight: "Kitty!"

 

Something enormous bounded up the ramp. It was the size of a pick-up truck, with silver claws and golden glittering fur. I'd seen this monster once before. Two years ago, I'd glimpsed it briefly from a train. Now, up close and personal, it looked even bigger.

"The Nemean Lion," Thalia said. "Don't move."

The lion roared so loud it parted my hair. Its fangs gleamed like stainless steel.

"Separate on my mark," Zoe said. "Try to keep it distracted."

"Until when?" Grover asked.

"Until I think of a way to kill it. Go!"

I unsheathed Kairos and rolled to the left. Arrows whistled past me, and Grover played a sharp tweet-tweet cadence on his reed pipes. I turned and saw Zoe and Bianca climbing the Apollo capsule. They were firing arrows, one after another, all shattering harmlessly against the lion's metallic fur. The lion swiped the capsule and tipped it on its side, spilling the Hunters off the back. Grover played a frantic, horrible tune, and the lion turned toward him, but Thalia stepped into its path, holding up Aegis, and the lion recoiled. "ROOOAAAR!"

"Hi-yah!" Thalia said. "Back!"

The lion growled and clawed the air, but it retreated as if the shield were a blazing fire.

For a second, I thought Thalia had it under control. Then I saw the lion crouching, its leg muscles tensing. I'd seen enough cat fights in the alleys around my apartment in New York. I knew the lion was going to pounce.

"Hey!" I yelled. I don't know what I was thinking, but I charged the beast. I just wanted to get it away from my friends. I slashed with Kairos, a good strike to the flank that should've cut the monster into Meow Mix, but the blade just clanged against its fur in a burst of sparks.

The lion raked me with its claws, ripping off a chunk of my sweater. I backed against the railing. It sprang at me, one thousand pounds of monster, and I had no choice but to turn and jump.

I landed on the wing of an old-fashioned silver airplane, which pitched and almost spilled me to the floor, three stories below.

An arrow whizzed past my head. The lion jumped onto the aircraft, and the cords holding the plane began to groan.

 

The lion swiped at me, and I dropped onto the next exhibit, a weird-looking spacecraft with blades like a helicopter. I looked up and saw the lion roar—inside its maw, a pink tongue and throat.

Its mouth, I thought. Its fur was completely invulnerable, but if I could strike it in the mouth... The only problem was, the monster moved too quickly. Between its claws and fangs, I couldn't get close without getting sliced to pieces.

"Zoe!" I shouted. "Target the mouth!"

The monster lunged. An arrow zipped past it, missing completely, and I dropped from the spaceship onto the top of a floor exhibit, a huge model of the earth. I slid down Russia and dropped off the equator.

The Nemean Lion growled and steadied itself on the spacecraft, but its weight was too much. One of the cords snapped. As the display swung down like a pendulum, the lion leaped off onto the model earth's North Pole.

"Grover!" I yelled. "Clear the area!"

Groups of kids were running around screaming. Grover tried to corral them away from the monster just as the other cord on the spaceship snapped and the exhibit crashed to the floor. Thalia dropped off the second-floor railing and landed across from me, on the other side of the globe. The lion regarded us both, trying to decide which of us to kill first.

Zoe and Bianca were above us, bows ready, but they kept having to move around to get a good angle.

"No clear shot!" Zoe yelled. "Get it to open its mouth more!"

The lion snarled from the top of the globe.

I looked around. Options. I needed... The gift shop.

"Thalia," I said, "get Percy and keep it occupied."

She nodded grimly.

"Hi-yah!" She pointed her spear and a spidery arc of blue electricity shot out, zapping the lion in the tail.

"ROOOOOOOAR!" The lion turned and pounced. Thalia rolled out of its way, holding up Aegis to keep the monster at bay, and I ran for the gift shop.

"This is no time for souvenirs!" Zoe yelled.

I dashed into the shop, knocking over rows of T-shirts, jumping over tables full of glow-in-the-dark planets and space ooze. The sales lady didn't protest. She was too busy cowering behind her cash register.

There! On the far wall—glittery silver packets. Whole racks of them. I scooped up every kind I could find and ran out of the shop with an armful.

Zoe and Bianca were still showering arrows on the monster, but it was no good. The lion seemed to know better than to open its mouth too much. It snapped at Thalia, slashing with its claws. It even kept its eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

Thalia jabbed at the monster and backed up. The lion pressed her.

"Ariana," she called, "whatever you're going to do—"

The lion roared and swatted her like a cat toy, sending her flying into the side of a Titan rocket. Her head hit the metal and she slid to the floor.

"Hey!" I yelled at the lion. I was too far away to strike, so I took a risk: I hurled Kairos like a throwing knife. It bounced off the lion's side, but that was enough to get the monster's attention. It turned toward me and snarled.

There was only one way to get close enough. I charged, and as the lion leaped to intercept me, I chunked a space food pouch into its maw—a chunk of cellophane-wrapped, freeze-dried strawberry parfait.

The lion's eyes got wide and it gagged like a cat with a hairball.

"Zoe, get ready!" I yelled.

Behind me, I could hear people screaming. Grover was playing another horrible song on his pipes.

I scrambled away from the lion. It managed to choke down the space food packet and looked at me with pure hate.

"Snack time!" I yelled.

It made the mistake of roaring at me, and I got an ice-cream sandwich in its throat. Before the lion could stop gagging, I shot in two more flavors of ice cream and a freeze-dried spaghetti dinner.

The lion's eyes bugged. It opened its mouth wide and reared up on its back paws, trying to get away from me.

"Now!" I yelled.

Immediately, arrows pierced the lion's maw—two, four, six. The lion thrashed wildly, turned, and fell backward. And then it was still.

Alarms wailed throughout the museum. People were flocking to the exits. Security guards were running around in a panic with no idea what was going on.

Grover knelt at Thalia's side and helped her up. She seemed okay, just a little dazed. Zoe and Bianca dropped from the balcony and landed next to me.

Zoe eyed me cautiously. "That was... an interesting strategy."

"Hey, it worked."

She didn't argue.

The lion seemed to be melting, the way dead monsters do sometimes, until there was nothing left but its glittering fur coat, and even that seemed to be shrinking to the size of a normal lion's pelt.

"Take it," I told Percy. "You may need it someday."

Percy stared at me. "What, the lion's fur? Isn't that, like, an animal rights violation or something?"

"It is a spoil of war," I told him. "It is rightly yours."

"You killed it," he said.

I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. Take the fur."

He lifted it up and as I watched, the pelt shifted and changed into a coat—a full-length golden-brown duster.

"Not exactly my style," he murmured.

"We have to get out of here," Grover said. "The security guards won't stay confused for long."

I noticed for the first time how strange it was that the guards hadn't rushed forward to arrest us. They were scrambling in all directions except ours, like they were madly searching for something. A few were running into the walls or each other.

"You did that?" I asked Grover.

He nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "A minor confusion song. I played some Barry Manilow. It works every time. But it'll only last a few seconds."

"The security guards are not our biggest worry," Zoe said. "Look."

Through the glass walls of the museum, I could see a group of men walking across the lawn. Gray men in gray camouflage outfits. They were too far away for us to see their eyes, but I could feel their gaze aimed straight at me.

"Go," I said. "They'll be hunting me. I'll distract them."

"No," Zoe said. "We go together."

I stared at her. "But, you said—"

"You are part of this quest now," Zoe said grudgingly. "I do not like it, but we are not leaving anyone behind."


	41. 41

We were crossing the Potomac when we spotted the helicopter. It was a sleek, black military model just like the one we'd seen at Westover Hall. And it was coming straight toward us.

"They know the van," I said. "We have to ditch it."

Zoe swerved into the fast lane. The helicopter was gaining.

"Maybe the military will shoot it down," Grover said hopefully.

"The military probably thinks it's one of theirs," I said.

"How can the General use mortals, anyway?" Percy asked.

"Mercenaries," Zoe said bitterly. "It is distasteful, but many mortals will fight for any cause as long as they are paid."

"But don't these mortals see who they're working for?" Percy asked. "Don't they notice all the monsters around them?"

Zoe shook her head. "I do not know how much they see through the Mist. I doubt it would matter to them if they knew the truth. Sometimes mortals can be more horrible than monsters."

The helicopter kept coming, making a lot better time than we were through D.C. traffic.

Thalia closed her eyes and prayed hard. "Hey, Dad. A lightning bolt would be nice about now. Please?"

But the sky stayed gray and snowy. No sign of a helpful thunderstorm.

"There!" Bianca said. "That parking lot!"

"We'll be trapped," Zoe said.

"Trust me," Bianca said.

Zoe shot across two lanes of traffic and into a mall parking lot on the south bank of the river. We left the van and followed Bianca down some steps.

"Subway entrance," Bianca said. "Let's go south. Alexandria."

"Anything," Thalia agreed.

We bought tickets and got through the turnstiles, looking behind us for any signs of pursuit. A few minutes later we were safely aboard a southbound train, riding away from D.C. As our train came above ground, we could see the helicopter circling the parking lot, but it didn't come after us.

Grover let out a sigh. "Nice job, Bianca, thinking of the subway."

Bianca looked pleased. "Yeah, well. I saw that station when Nico and I came through last summer. I remember being really surprised to see it, because it wasn't here when we used to live in D.C."

Grover frowned. "New? But that station looked really old."

"I guess," Bianca said. "But trust me, when we lived here as little kids, there was no subway."

Thalia sat forward. "Wait a minute. No subway at all?"

Bianca nodded.

Now, I knew nothing about D.C., but I didn't see how their whole subway system could be less than twelve years old. I guess everyone else was thinking the same thing, because they looked pretty confused.

"Bianca," Zoe said. "How long ago..." Her voice faltered. The sound of the helicopter was getting louder again.

"We need to change trains," Percy said. "Next station."

Over the next half hour, all we thought about was getting away safely. We changed trains twice. I had no idea where we were going, but after a while we lost the helicopter.

Unfortunately, when we finally got off the train we found ourselves at the end of the line, in an industrial area with nothing but warehouses and railway tracks. And snow. Lots of snow. It seemed much colder here.

We wandered through the railway yard, thinking there might be another passenger train somewhere, but there were just rows and rows of freight cars, most of which were covered in snow, like they hadn't moved in years.

A homeless guy was standing at a trash-can fire. We must've looked pretty pathetic, because he gave us a toothless grin and said, "Y'all need to get warmed up? Come on over!"

We huddled around his fire, Thalia's teeth were chattering. She said, "Well this is g-g-ggreat."

"My hooves are frozen," Grover complained.

"Feet," Percy corrected.

"Maybe we should contact camp," Bianca said. "Chiron—"

"No," Zoe said. "They cannot help us anymore. We must finish this quest ourselves."

I gazed miserably around the rail yard. Somewhere, far to the west, Annabeth was in danger. Artemis was in chains. A doomsday monster was on the loose. And we were stuck on the outskirts of D.C., sharing a homeless persons fire.

"You know," the homeless man said, "you're never completely without friends." His face was grimy and his beard tangled, but his expression seemed kindly. "You kids need a train going west?"

"Yes, sir," Percy said. "You know of any?"

He pointed one greasy hand.

Suddenly I noticed a freight train, gleaming and free of snow. It was one of those automobile-carrier trains, with steel mesh curtains and a triple-deck of cars inside. The side of the freight train said SUN WEST LINE.

"That's... convenient," Thalia said. "Thanks, uh..."

She turned to the homeless guy, but he was gone. The trash can in front of us was cold and empty, as if he'd taken the flames with him.

An hour later we were rumbling west. There was no problem about who would drive now, because we all got our own luxury car. Zoe and Bianca were crashed out in a Lexus on the top deck. Grover was playing race car driver behind the wheel of a Lamborghini. And Thalia had hot-wired the radio in a black Mercedes SLK so she could pick up the alt-rock stations from D.C.

I decided to get into a white BMW and fell asleep in the back seat.

* * *

I sat bolt upright in the BMW's back seat. Grover was shaking my arm.

"Ariana," he said. "It's morning. The train's stopped. Come on!"

I tried to shake off my drowsiness. Thalia, Percy, Zoe, and Bianca had already rolled up the metal curtains. Outside were snowy mountains dotted with pine trees, the sun rising red between two peaks.


	42. 42

We'd arrived on the outskirts of a little ski town nestled in the mountains. The sign said WELCOME TO CLOUDCROFT, NEW MEXICO. The air was cold and thin. The roofs of the cabins were heaped with snow, and dirty mounds of it were piled up on the sides of the streets. Tall pine trees loomed over the valley, casting pitch-black shadows, though the morning was sunny.

Even with my layered clothes, I was freezing by the time we got to Main Street, which was about half a mile from the train tracks. As we walked, Percy told Grover and me about his conversation with Apollo the night before—how he'd told him to seek out Nereus in San Francisco.

Grover looked uneasy. "That's good, I guess. But we've got to get there first."

I tried not to get too depressed about our chances. I didn't want to send Grover into a panic, but I knew we had another huge deadline looming, aside from saving Artemis in time for her council of the gods. The General had said Annabeth would only be kept alive until the winter solstice. That was Friday, only four days away. And he'd said something about a sacrifice. I didn't like the sound of that at all.

We stopped in the middle of town. You could pretty much see everything from there: a school, a bunch of tourist stores and cafes, some ski cabins, and a grocery store.

"Great," Thalia said, looking around. "No bus station. No taxis. No car rental. No way out."

"There's a coffee shop!" said Grover.

"Yes," Zoe said. "Coffee is good."

"And pastries," Grover said dreamily. "And wax paper."

Thalia sighed. "Fine. How about you two go get us some food. Percy, Ariana, Bianca, and I will check in the grocery store. Maybe they can give us directions."

We agreed to meet back in front of the grocery store in fifteen minutes. Bianca looked a little uncomfortable coming with us, but she did.

Inside the store, we found out a few valuable things about Cloudcroft: there wasn't enough snow for skiing, the grocery store sold rubber rats for a dollar each, and there was no easy way in or out of town unless you had your own car.

"You could call for a taxi from Alamogordo," the clerk said doubtfully. "That's down at the bottom of the mountains, but it would take at least an hour to get here. Cost several hundred dollars."

The clerk looked so lonely. Percy bought a rubber rat. Then we headed back outside and stood on the porch.

"Wonderful," Thalia grumped. "I'm going to walk down the street, see if anybody in the other shops has a suggestion."

"But the clerk said—" Percy started.

"I know," she told Percy. "I'm checking anyway."

I let her go. I knew how it felt to be restless. All half-bloods had attention deficit problems because of their inborn battlefield reflexes. They couldn't stand just waiting around.

Percy, Bianca, and I stood together awkwardly. I'd never been alone with Bianca before. I wasn't sure what to say, especially now that she was a Hunter and everything.

"Nice rat," she said at last. Percy set it on the porch railing.

"So... how do you like being a Hunter so far?" Percy asked.

She pursed her lips. "You're not still mad at me for joining, are you?"

"Nah. Long as, you know... you're happy."

"I'm not sure 'happy' is the right word, with Lady Artemis gone. But being a Hunter is definitely cool. I feel calmer somehow. Everything seems to have slowed down around me. I guess that's the immortality."

I stared at her, trying to see the difference. She did seem more confident than before, more at peace. She didn't hide her face under a green cap anymore. She kept her hair tied back. With a shiver, I realized that five hundred or a thousand years from now, Bianca di Angelo would look exactly the same as she did today. She might be having a conversation like this with some other half-blood, but Bianca would still look twelve years old.

"Nico didn't understand my decision," Bianca murmured. She looked at me like she wanted assurance it was okay.

"He'll be all right," I said. "Camp Half-Blood takes in a lot of young kids. They did that for Annabeth."

Bianca nodded. "I hope we find her. Annabeth, I mean. She's lucky to have friends like you guys."

"Lot of good it did her."

"Don't blame yourself. You risked your life to save my brother and me. I mean, that was seriously brave. If I hadn't met you, I wouldn't have felt okay about leaving Nico at the camp. I figured if there were people like you there, Nico would be fine. You're a good person."

A couple hundred yards away, Grover and Zoe came out of the coffee shop loaded down with pastry bags and drinks.

"So what's the story with you and Nico?" I asked her. "Where did you go to school before Westover?"

She frowned. "I think it was a boarding school in D.C. It seems like so long ago."

"You never lived with your parents? I mean, your mortal parent?"

"We were told our parents were dead. There was a bank trust for us. A lot of money, I think. A lawyer would come by once in a while to check on us. Then Nico and I had to leave that school."

"Why?"

She knit her eyebrows. "We had to go somewhere. I remember it was important. We traveled a long way. And we stayed in this hotel for a few weeks. And then... I don't know. One day a different lawyer came to get us out. He said it was time for us to leave. He drove us back east, through D.C. Then up into Maine. And we started going to Westover."

It was a strange story. Then again, Bianca and Nico were half-bloods. Nothing would be normal for them.

"So you've been raising Nico pretty much all your life?" I asked. "Just the two of you?"

She nodded. "That's why I wanted to join the Hunters so bad. I mean, I know it's selfish, but I wanted my own life and friends. I love Nico—don't get me wrong—I just needed to find out what it would be like not to be a big sister twenty-four hours a day."

"Zoe seems to trust you," Percy said. "What were you guys talking about, anyway— something dangerous about the quest?"

"When?"

"Yesterday morning on the pavilion," he said. "Something about the General."

Her face darkened. "How did you... The invisibility hat. Were you eavesdropping?"

"No! I mean, not really. I just—"

He was saved from trying to explain when Zoe and Grover arrived with the drinks and pastries. Hot chocolate for Bianca and Percy. Coffee for us. Percy had a blueberry muffin that I took a bit off of.

"We should do the tracking spell," Zoe said. "Grover, do you have any acorns left?"

"Umm," Grover mumbled. He was chewing on a bran muffin, wrapper and all. "I think so. I just need to—"

He froze.

I was about to ask what was wrong, when a warm breeze rustled past, like a gust of springtime had gotten lost in the middle of winter. Fresh air seasoned with wildflowers and sunshine. And something else—almost like a voice, trying to say something. A warning.

Zoe gasped. "Grover, thy cup."

Grover dropped his coffee cup, which was decorated with pictures of birds. Suddenly the birds peeled off the cup and flew away—a flock of tiny doves. Percy's rubber rat squeaked. It scampered off the railing and into the trees—real fur, real whiskers.

Grover collapsed next to his coffee, which steamed against the snow. We gathered around him and tried to wake him up. He groaned, his eyes fluttering.

"Hey!" Thalia said, running up from the street. "I just... What's wrong with Grover?"

"I don't know," I said. "He collapsed."

"Uuuuuhhhh," Grover groaned.

"Well, get him up!" Thalia said. She had her spear in her hand. She looked behind her as if she were being followed. "We have to get out of here."

* * *

We made it to the edge of the town before the first three skeleton warriors appeared. They stepped from the trees on either side of the road. Instead of gray camouflage, they were now wearing blue New Mexico State Police uniforms, but they had the same transparent gray skin and yellow eyes.

They drew their handguns. The skeleton warriors pointed their guns at Percy and me.

Thalia tapped her bracelet. Aegis spiraled to life on her arm, but the warriors didn't flinch. Their glowing yellow eyes bored right into me.

I drew Nikao, though I wasn't sure what good it would do against guns.

Zoe and Bianca drew their bows, but Bianca was having trouble because Grover kept swooning and leaning against her.

"Back up," Thalia said.

We started to—but then I heard a rustling of branches. Two more skeletons appeared on the road behind us. We were surrounded.

I wondered where the other skeletons were. I'd seen a dozen at the Smithsonian. Then one of the warriors raised a cell phone to his mouth and spoke into it.

Except he wasn't speaking. He made a clattering, clicking sound, like dry teeth on bone. Suddenly I understood what was going on. The skeletons had split up to look for us. These skeletons were now calling their brethren. Soon we'd have a full party on our hands.

"It's near," Grover moaned.

"It's here," Percy said.

"No," he insisted. "The gift. The gift from the Wild."

I didn't know what he was talking about, but I was worried about his condition. He was in no shape to walk, much less fight.

"We'll have to go one-on-one," Thalia said. "Five of them. Five of us. Maybe they'll ignore Grover that way."

"Agreed," said Zoe.

"The Wild!" Grover moaned.

A warm wind blew through the canyon, rustling the trees, but I kept my eyes on the skeletons. I remembered the General gloating over Annabeth's fate. I remembered the way Luke had betrayed her.

And I charged.

The first skeleton fired. Time slowed down. I won't say I could see the bullet, but I could feel its path, the same way I felt water currents in the ocean. I deflected it off the edge of my blade and kept charging.

The skeleton drew a baton and I sliced off his arms at the elbows. Then I swung Nikao through his waist and cut him in half.

His bones unknit and clattered to the asphalt in a heap. Almost immediately, they began to move, reassembling themselves. The second skeleton clattered his teeth at me and tried to fire, but I knocked his gun into the snow.

I thought I was doing pretty well, until the other two skeletons shot me in the back.

"Ariana!" Thalia screamed.

I landed face down in the street. My wounds burned and my vision blurred.

Thalia charged the second skeleton. Zoe and Bianca started firing arrows at the third and fourth. Grover stood there and held his hands out to the trees, looking like he wanted to hug them.

There was a crashing sound in the forest to our left, like a bulldozer. Maybe the skeletons' reinforcements were arriving. I got to my feet and ducked a police baton. The skeleton I'd cut in half was already fully re-formed, coming after me.

There was no way to stop them. Zoe and Bianca fired at their heads point-blank, but the arrows just whistled straight through their empty skulls. One lunged at Bianca, and I thought she was a goner, but she whipped out her hunting knife and stabbed the warrior in the chest. The whole skeleton erupted into flames, leaving a little pile of ashes and a police badge.

"How did you do that?" Zoe asked.

"I don't know," Bianca said nervously. "Lucky stab?"

"Well, do it again!"

Bianca tried, but the remaining three skeletons were wary of her now. They pressed us back, keeping us at baton's length.

"Plan?" Percy said as we retreated.

Nobody answered. The trees behind the skeletons were shivering. Branches were cracking.

"A gift," Grover muttered.

And then, with a mighty roar, the largest pig I'd ever seen came crashing into the road. It was a wild boar, thirty feet high, with a snotty pink snout and tusks the size of canoes. Its back bristled with brown hair, and its eyes were wild and angry.

"REEEEEEEEET!" it squealed, and raked the three skeletons aside with its tusks. The force was so great, they went flying over the trees and into the side of the mountain, where they smashed to pieces, thigh bones and arm bones twirling everywhere.

Then the pig turned on us.

Thalia raised her spear, but Grover yelled, "Don't kill it."

The boar grunted and pawed the ground, ready to charge.

"That's the Erymanthian Boar," Zoe said, trying to stay calm. "I don't think we can kill it."

"It's a gift," Grover said. "A blessing from the Wild!"

The boar said "REEEEEEET!" and swung its tusk.

Zoe and Bianca dived out of the way. Percy had to push Grover so he wouldn't get launched into the mountain on the Boar Tusk Express.

"Yeah, I feel blessed!" Percy said. "Scatter!"

We ran in different directions, and for a moment the boar was confused.

"It wants to kill us!" Thalia said.

"Of course," Grover said. "It's wild!"

"So how is that a blessing?" Bianca asked.

It seemed a fair question to me, but the pig was offended and charged her. She was faster than I'd realized. She rolled out of the way of its hooves and came up behind the beast. It lashed out with its tusks and pulverized the WELCOME TO CLOUDCROFT sign.

I racked my brain, trying to remember the myth of the boar. My vision was still blurry and I could tell I was loosing too much ichor. I tried to wrap my wounds quick as I thought of the myth. I was pretty sure Hercules had fought this thing once, but I couldn't remember how he'd beaten it. I had a vague memory of the boar plowing down several Greek cities before Hercules managed to subdue it. I hoped Cloudcroft was insured against giant wild boar attacks.

"Keep moving!" Zoe yelled. She and Bianca ran in opposite directions. Grover danced around the boar, playing his pipes while the boar snorted and tried to gouge him. But Thalia, Percy, and I won the prize for bad luck. When the boar turned on us, Thalia made the mistake of raising Aegis in defense. The sight of the Medusa head made the boar squeal in outrage. Maybe it looked too much like one of his relatives. The boar charged us.

We only managed to keep ahead of it because we ran uphill, and we could dodge in and out of trees while the boar had to plow through them.

On the other side of the hill, I found an old stretch of train tracks, half buried in the snow.

"This way." I grabbed Thalia's arm and Percy's hand and we ran along the rails while the boar roared behind us, slipping and sliding as it tried to navigate the steep hillside. Its hooves just were not made for this, thank the gods.

Ahead of us, I saw a covered tunnel. Past that, an old trestle bridge spanning a gorge. I had a crazy idea.

"Follow me!"

Thalia slowed down—I didn't have time to ask why—but I pulled her along and she reluctantly followed. Behind us, a ten-ton pig tank was knocking down pine trees and crushing boulders under its hooves as it chased us.

Thalia, Percy, and I ran into the tunnel and came out on the other side.

"No!" Thalia screamed.

She'd turned as white as ice. We were at the edge of the bridge. Below, the mountain dropped away into a snow-filled gorge about seventy feet below.

The boar was right behind us.

"Come on!" Percy said. "It'll hold our weight, probably."

"I can't!" Thalia yelled. Her eyes were wild with fear.

The boar smashed into the covered tunnel, tearing through at full speed.

"Now!" I yelled at Thalia.

She looked down and swallowed. I swear she was turning green.

I didn't have time to process why. The boar was charging through the tunnel, straight toward us. Plan B. I tackled Thalia and pulled Percy along which sent us all sideways off the edge of the bridge, into the side of the mountain. We slid on Aegis like a snow-board, over rocks and mud and snow, racing downhill. The boar was less fortunate; it couldn't turn that fast, so all ten tons of the monster charged out onto the tiny trestle, which buckled under its weight. The boar free-fell into the gorge with a mighty squeal and landed in a snowdrift with a huge POOOOOF!

Thalia, Percy, and I skidded to a stop. We were all breathing hard. I was still bleeding. Thalia had pine needles in her hair. Percy was cut up and bleeding. Next to us, the wild boar was squealing and struggling. All I could see was the bristly tip of its back. It was wedged completely in the snow like Styrofoam packing. It didn't seem to be hurt, but it wasn't going anywhere, either.

I looked at Thalia. "You're afraid of heights."

Now that we were safely down the mountain, her eyes had their usual angry look. "Don't be stupid."

"That explains why you freaked out on Apollo's bus. Why you didn't want to talk about it."

She took a deep breath. Then she brushed the pine needles out of her hair. "If you guys tell anyone, I swear—"

"No, no," Percy said. "That's cool. It's just... the daughter of Zeus, the Lord of the Sky, afraid of heights?"

She was about to knock him into the snow when, above us, Grover's voice called, "Helloooooo?"

"Down here!" I shouted.

A few minutes later, Zoe, Bianca, and Grover joined us. We stood watching the wild boar struggle in the snow.

"A blessing of the Wild," Grover said, though he now looked agitated.

"I agree," Zoe said. "We must use it."

"Hold up," Thalia said irritably. She still looked like she'd just lost a fight with a Christmas tree. "Explain to me why you're so sure this pig is a blessing."

Grover looked over, distracted. "It's our ride west. Do you have any idea how fast this boar can travel?"

"Fun," Percy said. "Like... pig cowboys."

Grover nodded. "We need to get aboard. I wish... I wish I had more time to look around. But it's gone now."

"What's gone?"

Grover didn't seem to hear me. He walked over to the boar and jumped onto its back. Already the boar was starting to make some headway through the drift. Once it broke free, there'd be no stopping it. Grover took out his pipes. He started playing a snappy tune and tossed an apple in front of the boar. The apple floated and spun right above the boar's nose, and the boar went nuts, straining to get it.

"Automatic steering," Thalia murmured. "Great."

She trudged over and jumped on behind Grover, which still left plenty of room for the rest of us.

Zoe, Bianca, and I walked toward the boar.

"Wait a second," Percy said. "Do you two know what Grover is talking about—this wild blessing?"

"Of course," Zoe said. "Did you not feel it in the wind? It was so strong... I never thought I would sense that presence again."

"What presence?"

She stared at him like he was an idiot. "The Lord of the Wild, of course. Just for a moment, in the arrival of the boar, I felt the presence of Pan."


	43. 43

We rode the boar until sunset, which was about as much as my back end could take. Imagine riding a giant steel brush over a bed of gravel all day. That's about how comfortable boar-riding was.

I have no idea how many miles we covered, but the mountains faded into the distance and were replaced by miles of flat, dry land. The grass and scrub brush got sparser until we were galloping (do boars gallop?) across the desert.

As night fell, the boar came to a stop at a creek bed and snorted. He started drinking the muddy water, then ripped a saguaro cactus out of the ground and chewed it, needles and all.

"This is as far as he'll go," Grover said. "We need to get off while he's eating."

Nobody needed convincing. We slipped off the boar's back while he was busy ripping up cacti. Then we waddled away as best we could with our saddle sores.

After its third saguaro and another drink of muddy water, the boar squealed and belched, then whirled around and galloped back toward the east.

"It likes the mountains better," Percy guessed.

"I can't blame it," Thalia said. "Look."

Ahead of us was a two-lane road half covered with sand. On the other side of the road was a cluster of buildings too small to be a town: a boarded-up house, a taco shop that looked like it hadn't been open since before Zoe Nightshade was born, and a white stucco post office with a sign that said GILA CLAW, ARIZONA hanging crooked above the door. Beyond that was a range of hills... but then I noticed they weren't regular hills. The countryside was way too flat for that. The hills were enormous mounds of old cars, appliances, and other scrap metal. It was a junkyard that seemed to go on forever.

"Whoa," Percy said.

"Something tells me we're not going to find a car rental here," Thalia said. She looked at Grover. "I don't suppose you got another wild boar up your sleeve?"

Grover was sniffing the wind, looking nervous. He fished out his acorns and threw them into the sand, then played his pipes. They rearranged themselves in a pattern that made no sense to me, but Grover looked concerned.

"That's us," he said. "Those six nuts right there."

"Which one is me?" Percy asked.

"The little deformed one," Zoe suggested.

"Oh, shut up."

"That cluster right there," Grover said, pointing to the left, "that's trouble."

"A monster?" Thalia asked.

Grover looked uneasy. "I don't smell anything, which doesn't make sense. But the acorns don't lie. Our next challenge..." He pointed straight toward the junkyard. With the sunlight almost gone now, the hills of metal looked like something on an alien planet.

* * *

We decided to camp for the night and try the junkyard in the morning. None of us wanted to go Dumpster-diving in the dark.

Zoe and Bianca produced six sleeping bags and foam mattresses out of their backpacks. I don't know how they did it, because the packs were tiny, but must've been enchanted to hold so much stuff. I'd noticed their bows and quivers were also magic. I never really thought about it, but when the Hunters needed them, they just appeared slung over their backs. And when they didn't, they were gone.

The night got chilly fast, so Grover and I collected old boards from the ruined house, and Thalia zapped them with an electric shock to start a campfire. Pretty soon we were about as comfy as you can get in a rundown ghost town in the middle of nowhere.

"The stars are out," Zoe said.

She was right. There were millions of them, with no city lights to turn the sky orange.

"Amazing," Bianca said. "I've never actually seen the Milky Way."

"This is nothing," Zoe said. "In the old days, there were more. Whole constellations have disappeared because of human light pollution."

"You talk like you're not human," Percy said.

Zoe raised an eyebrow. "I am a Hunter. I care what happens to the wild places of the world. Can the same be said for thee?"

"For you," Thalia corrected. "Not thee."

"But you use you for the beginning of a sentence."

"And for the end," Thalia said. "No thou. No thee. Just you."

Zoe threw up her hands in exasperation. "I hate this language. It changes too often!"

Grover sighed. He was still looking up at the stars like he was thinking about the light pollution problem. "If only Pan were here, he would set things right."

Zoe nodded sadly.

"Maybe it was the coffee," Grover said. "I was drinking coffee, and the wind came. Maybe if I drank more coffee..."

I was pretty sure coffee had nothing to do with what had happened in Cloudcroft, but I didn't have the heart to tell Grover. I thought about the rubber rat and the tiny birds that had suddenly come alive when the wind blew.

"Grover, do you really think that was Pan? I mean, I know you want it to be." Percy said.

"He sent us help," Grover insisted. "I don't know how or why. But it was his presence. After this quest is done, I'm going back to New Mexico and drinking a lot of coffee. It's the best lead we've gotten in two thousand years. I was so close."

"What I want to know," Thalia said, looking at Bianca, "is how you destroyed one of the zombies. There are a lot more out there somewhere. We need to figure out how to fight them."

Bianca shook her head. "I don't know. I just stabbed it and it went up in flames."

"Maybe there's something special about your knife," I said.

"It is the same as mine," Zoe said. "Celestial bronze, yes. But mine did not affect the warriors that way."

"Maybe you have to hit the skeleton in a certain spot," I said.

Bianca looked uncomfortable with everybody paying attention to her.

"Never mind," Zoe told her. "We will find the answer. In the meantime, we should plan our next move. When we get through this junkyard, we must continue west. If we can find a road, we can hitchhike to the nearest city. I think that would be Las Vegas."

I was about to protest that Grover, Percy, and I had had bad experiences in that town, but Bianca beat us to it.

"No!" she said. "Not there!" She looked really freaked out, like she'd just been dropped off the steep end of a roller coaster.

Zoe frowned. "Why?"

Bianca took a shaky breath. "I... I think we stayed there for a while. Nico and I. When we were traveling. And then, I can't remember..."

Suddenly I had a really bad thought. I remembered what Bianca had told me about Nico and her staying in a hotel for a while. I met Grover's eyes, and I got the feeling he was thinking the same thing.

"Bianca," I said. "That hotel you stayed at. Was it possibly called the Lotus Hotel and Casino?"

Her eyes widened. "How could you know that?"

"Oh, great," I said.

"Wait," Thalia said. "What is the Lotus Casino?"

"A couple of years ago," I said, "Grover, Percy, Annabeth, and I got trapped there. It's designed so you never want to leave. We stayed for about an hour. When we came out, five days had passed. It makes time speed up."

"No," Bianca said. "No, that's not possible."

"You said somebody came and got you out," I remembered.

"Yes."

"What did he look like? What did he say?"

"I... I don't remember. Please, I really don't want to talk about this."

Zoe sat forward, her eyebrows knit with concern. "You said that Washington, D.C., had changed when you went back last summer. You didn't remember the subway being there."

"Yes, but—"

"Bianca," Zoe said, "can you tell me the name of the president of the United States right now?"

"Don't be silly," Bianca said. She told us the correct name of the president.

"And who was the president before that?" Zoe asked.

Bianca thought for a while. "Roosevelt."

Zoe swallowed. "Theodore or Franklin?"

"Franklin," Bianca said. "F.D.R."

"Like FDR Drive?" Percy asked.

"Bianca," Zoe said. "F.D.R. was not the last president. That was about seventy years ago."

"That's impossible," Bianca said. "I... I'm not that old."

She stared at her hands as if to make sure they weren't wrinkled.

Thalia's eyes turned sad. I guess she knew what it was like to get pulled out of time for a while. "It's okay, Bianca, The important thing is you and Nico are safe. You made it out."

"But how?" I said. "We were only in there for an hour and we barely escaped. How could you have escaped after being there for so long?"

"I told you." Bianca looked about ready to cry. "A man came and said it was time to leave. And—"

"But who? Why did he do it?"

Before she could answer, we were hit with a blazing light from down the road. The headlights of a car appeared out of nowhere. I was half hoping it was Apollo, come to give us a ride again, but the engine was way too silent for the sun chariot, and besides, it was nighttime. We grabbed our sleeping bags and got out of the way as a deathly white limousine slid to a stop in front of us.

The back door of the limo opened right next to Percy. Before he could step away, the point of a sword touched his throat.

I heard the sound of Zoe and Bianca drawing their bows. As the owner of the sword got out of the car, Percy moved back very slowly. He had to, because he was pushing the point under his chin.

He smiled cruelly. "Not so fast now, are you, punk?"

He was a big man with a crew cut, a black leather biker's jacket, black jeans, a white muscle shirt, and combat boots. Wraparound shades hid his eyes, but I knew what was behind those glasses—hollow sockets filled with flames.

"Ares," I growled.

The war god glanced at us. "At ease, people."

He snapped his fingers, and their weapons fell to the ground.

"This is a friendly meeting." He dug the point of his blade a little farther under Percy's chin. "Of course I'd like to take your head for a trophy, but someone wants to see you. And I never behead my enemies in front of a lady."

"What lady?" Thalia asked.

Ares looked over at her. "Well, well. I heard you were back."

He lowered his sword and pushed Percy away.

"Thalia, daughter of Zeus," Ares mused. "You're not hanging out with very good company."

"What's your business, Ares?" she said. "Who's in the car?"

Ares smiled, enjoying the attention. "Oh, I doubt she wants to meet the rest of you. Particularly not them." He jutted his chin toward Zoe and Bianca. "Why don't you all go get some tacos while you wait? Only take Percy a few minutes."

"We will not leave him alone with thee, Lord Ares," Zoe said.

"Besides," Grover managed, "the taco place is closed."

Ares snapped his fingers again. The lights inside the taqueria suddenly blazed to life. The boards flew off the door and the CLOSED sign flipped to OPEN. "You were saying, goat boy?"

"Go on," Percy told us. "I'll handle this."

"You heard the boy," Ares said. "He's big and strong. He's got things under control."

We reluctantly headed over to the taco restaurant.

* * *

The world did a three-sixty, spinning in a cloud of red dust. I fell to the ground. When I stood up again, the limousine was gone. The road, the taco restaurant, the whole town of Gila Claw was gone. My friends and I were standing in the middle of the junkyard, mountains of scrap metal stretched out in every direction.

"What did she want with you?" Bianca asked, once Percy had told us about Aphrodite.

"Oh, uh, not sure," Percy said. "She said to be careful in her husband's junkyard. She said not to pick anything up."

Zoe narrowed her eyes. "The goddess of love would not make a special trip to tell thee that. Be careful, Percy. Aphrodite has led many heroes astray."

"For once I agree with Zoe," Thalia said. "You can't trust Aphrodite."

"So," Percy said, "how do we get out of here?"

"That way," Zoe said. "That is west."

"How can you tell?"

In the light of the full moon, I was surprised how well I could see her roll her eyes at him. "Ursa Major is in the north," she said, "which means that must be west."

She pointed west, then at the northern constellation, which was hard to make out because there were so many other stars.

"Oh, yeah," Percy said. "The bear thing."

Zoe looked offended. "Show some respect. It was a fine bear. A worthy opponent."

"You act like it was real."

"Guys," Grover broke in. "Look!"

We'd reached the crest of a junk mountain. Piles of metal objects glinted in the moonlight: broken heads of bronze horses, metal legs from human statues, smashed chariots, tons of shields and swords and other weapons, along with more modern stuff, like cars that gleamed gold and silver, refrigerators, washing machines, and computer monitors.

"Whoa," Bianca said. "That stuff... some of it looks like real gold."

"It is," I said grimly. "Like Percy said, don't touch anything. This is the junkyard of the gods."

"Junk?" Grover picked up a beautiful crown made of gold, silver, and jewels. It was broken on one side, as if it had been split by an axe. "You call this junk?"

He bit off a point and began to chew. "It's delicious!"

I swatted the crown out of his hands. "I'm serious!"

"Look!" Bianca said. She raced down the hill, tripping over bronze coils and golden plates. She picked up a bow that glowed silver in moonlight. "A Hunter's bow!"

She yelped in surprise as the bow began to shrink, and became a hair clip shaped like a crescent moon. "It's just like Percy's sword!"

Zoe's face was grim. "Leave it, Bianca."

"But—"

"It is here for a reason. Anything thrown away in this junkyard must stay in this yard. It is defective. Or cursed."

Bianca reluctantly set the hair clip down.

"I don't like this place," Thalia said. She gripped the shaft of her spear.

"You think we're going to get attacked by killer refrigerators?" Percy asked.

She gave him a hard look. "Zoe is right, Percy. Things get thrown away here for a reason. Now come on, let's get across the yard."

"That's the second time you've agreed with Zoe," he muttered, but Thalia ignored him.

We started picking our way through the hills and valleys of junk. The stuff seemed to go on forever, and if it hadn't been for Ursa Major, we would've gotten lost. All the hills pretty much looked the same.

I'd like to say we left the stuff alone, but everybody pretty much looked at stuff. Percy found an electric guitar shaped like Apollo's lyre that had to picked up. Grover found a broken tree made out of metal. It had been chopped to pieces, but some of the branches still had golden birds in them, and they whirred around when Grover picked them up, trying to flap their wings.

Finally, we saw the edge of the junkyard about half a mile ahead of us, the lights of a highway stretching through the desert. But between us and the road...

"What is that?" Bianca gasped.

Ahead of us was a hill much bigger and longer than the others. It was like a metal mesa, the length of a football field and as tall as goalposts. At one end of the mesa was a row of ten thick metal columns, wedged tightly together.

Bianca frowned. "They look like—"

"Toes," Grover said.

Bianca nodded. "Really, really large toes."

Zoe and Thalia exchanged nervous looks.

"Let's go around," Thalia said. "Far around."

"But the road is right over there," Percy protested. "Quicker to climb over."

Ping.

Thalia hefted her spear and Zoe drew her bow, but then I realized it was only Grover. He had thrown a piece of scrap metal at the toes and hit one, making a deep echo, as if the column were hollow.

"Why did you do that?" Zoe demanded.

Grover cringed. "I don't know. I, uh, don't like fake feet?"

"Come on." Thalia looked at Percy. "Around."

He didn't argue. The toes were starting to freak me out, too. I mean, who sculpts ten-foot tall metal toes and sticks them in a junkyard?

After several minutes of walking, we finally stepped onto the highway, an abandoned but well-lit stretch of black asphalt.

"We made it out," Zoe said. "Thank the gods."

But apparently the gods didn't want to be thanked. At that moment, I heard a sound like a thousand trash compactors crushing metal.

I whirled around. Behind us, the scrap mountain was boiling, rising up. The ten toes tilted over, and I realized why they looked like toes. They were toes. The thing that rose up from the metal was a bronze giant in full Greek battle armor. He was impossibly tall—a skyscraper with legs and arms. He gleamed wickedly in the moonlight. He looked down at us, and his face was deformed. The left side was partially melted off. His joints creaked with rust, and across his armored chest, written in thick dust by some giant finger, were the words WASH ME.

"Talos!" Zoe gasped.

"Who—who's Talos?" Percy stuttered.

"One of Hephaestus's creations," I said. "But that can't be the original. It's too small. A prototype, maybe. A defective model."

The metal giant didn't like the word defective.

He moved one hand to his sword belt and drew his weapon. The sound of it coming out of its sheath was horrible, metal screeching against metal. The blade was a hundred feet long, easy. It looked rusty and dull, but I didn't figure that mattered. Getting hit with that thing would be like getting hit with a battleship.

"Someone took something," Zoe said. "Who took something?"

She stared accusingly at Percy.

He shook his head. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a thief."

Bianca didn't say anything. I could swear she looked guilty, but I didn't have much time to think about it, because the giant defective Talos took one step toward us, closing half the distance and making the ground shake.

"Run!" Grover yelped.

Great advice, except that it was hopeless. At a leisurely stroll, this thing could outdistance us easily.

We split up, the way we'd done with the Nemean Lion. Thalia drew her shield and held it up as she ran down the highway. The giant swung his sword and took out a row of power lines, which exploded in sparks and scattered across Thalia's path.

Zoe's arrows whistled toward the creature's face but shattered harmlessly against the metal. Grover brayed like a baby goat and went climbing up a mountain of metal.

Bianca, Percy, and I ended up next to each other, hiding behind a broken chariot.

"You took something," I said. "That bow."

"No!" she said, but her voice was quivering.

"Give it back!" Percy said. "Throw it down!"

"I... I didn't take the bow! Besides, it's too late."

"What did you take?"

Before she could answer, I heard a massive creaking noise, and a shadow blotted out the sky.

"Move!" I tore down the hill, Bianca and Percy right behind me, as the giant's foot smashed a crater in the ground where we'd been hiding.

"Hey, Talos!" Grover yelled, but the monster raised his sword, looking down at Bianca, Percy, and me.

Grover played a quick melody on his pipes. Over at the highway, the downed power lines began to dance. I understood what Grover was going to do a split second before it happened. One of the poles with power lines still attached flew toward Talos's back leg and wrapped around his calf The lines sparked and sent a jolt of electricity up the giant's backside.

Talos whirled around, creaking and sparking. Grover had bought us a few seconds.

"Come on!" I told Bianca and Percy.

But Bianca stayed frozen. From her pocket, she brought out a small metal figurine, a statue of a god. "It... it was for Nico. It was the only statue he didn't have."

"How can you think of Mythomagic at a time like this?" I said.

There were tears in her eyes.

"Throw it down," I said. "Maybe the giant will leave us alone."

She dropped it reluctantly, but nothing happened. The giant kept coming after Grover. It stabbed its sword into a junk hill, missing Grover by a few feet, but scrap metal made an avalanche over him, and then I couldn't see him anymore.

"No!" Thalia yelled. She pointed her spear, and a blue arc of lightning shot out, hitting the monster in his rusty knee, which buckled. The giant collapsed, but immediately started to rise again. It was hard to tell if it could feel anything. There weren't any emotions in its half melted face, but I got the sense that it was about as ticked off as a twenty-story-tall metal warrior could be.

He raised his foot to stomp and I saw that his sole was treaded like the bottom of a sneaker. There was a hole in his heel, like a large manhole, and there were red words painted around it, which I deciphered only after the foot came down: FOR MAINTENANCE ONLY.

"Crazy-idea time," I said.

Bianca looked at me nervously. "Anything."

I told them about the maintenance hatch. "There may be a way to control the thing. Switches or something. I'm going to get inside."

"How? You'll have to stand under its foot! You'll be crushed"

"Distract it," I said. "I'll just have to time it right."

Bianca's jaw tightened. "No. I'll go."

"You can't. You're new at this! You'll die."

"It's my fault the monster came after us," she said. "It's my responsibility. Here." She picked up the little god statue and pressed it into my hand. "If anything happens, give that to Nico. Tell him... tell him I'm sorry."

"Bianca, no!"

But she wasn't waiting for me. She charged at the monster's left foot.

Thalia had its attention for the moment. She'd learned that the giant was big but slow. If you could stay close to it and not get smashed, you could run around it and stay alive. At least, it was working so far.

Bianca got right next to the giant's foot, trying to balance herself on the metal scraps that swayed and shifted with his weight. Zoe yelled, "What are you doing?"

"Get it to raise its foot!" she said.

Zoe shot an arrow toward the monster's face and it flew straight into one nostril. The giant straightened and shook its head.

"Hey, Junk Boy!" I yelled. "Down here."

I ran up to its big toe and stabbed it with Nikao. The blade cut a gash in the bronze.

Unfortunately, my plan worked. Talos looked down at me and raised his foot to squash me like a bug. I didn't see what Bianca was doing. I had to turn and run. The foot came down about two inches behind me and I was knocked into the air. I hit something hard and sat up, dazed. I'd been thrown into an Olympus-Air refrigerator.

The monster was about to finish me off, but Grover somehow dug himself out of the junk pile. He played his pipes frantically, and his music sent another power line pole whacking against Talos's thigh. The monster turned. Grover should've run, but he must've been too exhausted from the effort of so much magic. He took two steps, fell, and didn't get back up.

"Grover!" Thalia, Percy, and I both ran toward him, but I knew we'd be too late.

The monster raised his sword to smash Grover. Then he froze.

Talos cocked his head to one side, like he was hearing strange new music. He started moving his arms and legs in weird ways, doing the Funky Chicken. Then he made a fist and punched himself in the face.

"Go, Bianca!" I yelled.

Zoe looked horrified. "She is inside?"

The monster staggered around, and I realized we were still in danger. Thalia and I grabbed Grover and ran with him toward the highway. Zoe was already ahead of us. She yelled, "How will Bianca get out?"

The giant hit itself in the head again and dropped his sword. A shudder ran through his whole body and he staggered toward the power lines.

"Look out!" I yelled, but it was too late.

The giant's ankle snared the lines, and blue flickers of electricity shot up his body. I hoped the inside was insulated. I had no idea what was going on in there. The giant careened back into the junkyard, and his right hand fell off, landing in the scrap metal with a horrible CLANG!

His left arm came loose, too. He was falling apart at the joints.

Talos began to run.

"Wait!" Zoe yelled. We ran after him, but there was no way we could keep up. Pieces of the robot kept falling off, getting in our way.

The giant crumbled from the top down: his head, his chest, and finally, his legs collapsed. When we reached the wreckage we searched frantically, yelling Bianca's name. We crawled around in the vast hollow pieces and the legs and the head. We searched until the sun started to rise, but no luck.

Zoe sat down and wept. I was surprised to see her cry. Thalia yelled in rage and impaled her sword in the giant's smashed face.

"We can keep searching," Percy said. "It's light now. We'll find her."

"No we won't," I said miserably. "It happened just as it was supposed to."

"What are you talking about?" Percy demanded.

I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. "The prophecy. One shall he lost in the land without rain."

Why hadn't I seen it? Why had I let her go instead of me? Here we were in the desert. And Bianca di Angelo was gone.


	44. 44

At the edge of the dump, we found a tow truck so old it might've been thrown away itself. But the engine started, and it had a full tank of gas, so we decided to borrow it.

Thalia drove. She didn't seem as stunned as Zoe or Grover or Percy or me.

"The skeletons are still out there," she reminded us. "We need to keep moving."

She navigated us through the desert, under clear blue skies, the sand so bright it hurt to look at. Zoe sat up front with Thalia. Grover, Percy, and I sat in the pickup bed, leaning against the tow wench. The air was cool and dry, but the nice weather just seemed like an insult after losing Bianca.

My hand closed around the little figurine that had cost her life. I still couldn't even tell what god it was supposed to be. Nico would know.

Oh, gods... what was I going to tell Nico?

"It should've been me," I said. "I should've gone into the giant."

"Don't say that!" Grover panicked. "It's bad enough Annabeth is gone, and now Bianca. Do you think I could stand it if..." He sniffled.

"Grover..."

He wiped under his eyes with an oily cloth that left his face grimy, like he had on war paint. "I'm... I'm okay."

But he wasn't okay. Ever since the encounter in New Mexico—whatever had happened when that wild wind blew through—he seemed really fragile, even more emotional than usual. I was afraid to talk to him about it, because he might start bawling.

At least there's one good thing about having a friend who gets freaked out more than you do. I realized I couldn't stay depressed. I had to set aside thinking about Bianca and keep us going forward, the way Thalia was doing. I wondered what she and Zoe were talking about in the front of the truck.

The tow truck ran out of gas at the edge of a river canyon. That was just as well, because the road dead-ended.

Thalia got out and slammed the door. Immediately, one of the tires blew. "Great. What now?"

I scanned the horizon. There wasn't much to see. Desert in all directions, occasional clumps of barren mountains plopped here and there. The canyon was the only thing interesting. The river itself wasn't very big, maybe fifty yards across, green water with a few rapids, but it carved a huge scar out of the desert. The rock cliffs dropped away below us.

"There's a path," Grover said. "We could get to the river."

I tried to see what he was talking about, and finally noticed a tiny ledge winding down the cliff face.

"That's a goat path," Percy said.

"So?" he asked.

"The rest of us aren't goats."

"We can make it," Grover said. "I think."

"No," Percy said. "I, uh, think we should go farther upstream."

Grover said, "But—"

"Come on," Percy said. "A walk won't hurt us."

We followed the river about half a mile before coming to an easier slope that led down to the water. On the shore was a canoe rental operation that was closed for the season, but I left a stack of golden drachmas on the counter and a note saying IOU two canoes.

"We need to go upstream," Zoe said. It was the first time I'd heard her speak since the junkyard, and I was worried about how bad she sounded, like somebody with the flu. "The rapids are too swift."

"Leave that to me," Percy said. We put the canoes in the water.

Thalia pulled Percy aside for a moment.

After a few minutes Thalia turned and helped Grover get their canoe into the water.

We got into our canoes.

Suddenly the rapids changed and we started so fast Grover fell into his canoe with his hooves sticking up in the air.

"I hate naiads," Zoe grumbled. A stream of water squirted up from the back of the boat and hit Zoe in the face.

"She-devils!" Zoe went for her bow.

"Whoa," I said. "They're just playing."

"Cursed water spirits. They've never forgiven me."

"Forgiven you for what?"

She slung her bow back over her shoulder. "It was a long time ago. Never mind."

We sped up the river, the cliffs looming up on either side of us.

"What happened to Bianca wasn't your fault," I told her. "It was my fault. I let her go."

I figured this would give Zoe an excuse to start yelling at me. At least that might shake her out of feeling depressed.

Instead, her shoulders slumped. "No. I pushed her into going on the quest. I was too anxious. She was a powerful half-blood. She had a kind heart, as well. I... I thought she would be the next lieutenant."

"But you're the lieutenant." Percy said.

She gripped the strap of her quiver. She looked more tired than I'd ever seen her. "Nothing can last forever, Percy. Over two thousand years I have led the Hunt, and my wisdom has not improved. Now Artemis herself is in danger."

"Look, you can't blame yourself for that."

"If I had insisted on going with her—"

"You think you could've fought something powerful enough to kidnap Artemis? There's nothing you could have done."

Zoe didn't answer.

The cliffs along the river were getting taller. Long shadows fell across the water, making it a lot colder, even though the day was bright.

Percy took Riptide out of his pocket. Zoe looked at the pen, and her expression was pained.

"You made this," Percy said.

"Who told thee?"

"I had a dream about it."

She studied him. I was sure she was going to call him crazy, but she just sighed. "It was a gift. And a mistake."

"Who was the hero?" Percy asked.

Zoe shook her head. "Do not make me say his name. I swore never to speak it again."

"You act like I should know him."

"I am sure you do, hero. Don't all you boys want to be just like him?"

Her voice was so bitter, I decided not to ask what she meant. I looked down at Riptide.

"Your mother was a water goddess?" I asked.

"Yes, Pleione. She had five daughters. My sisters and I. The Hesperides."

"Those were the girls who lived in a garden at the edge of the West. With the golden apple tree and a dragon guarding it."

"Yes," Zoe said wistfully. "Ladon."

"But weren't there only four sisters?"

"There are now. I was exiled. Forgotten. Blotted out as if I never existed."

"Why?"

Zoe pointed to Percy's pen. "Because I betrayed my family and helped a hero. You won't find that in the legend either. He never spoke of me. After his direct assault on Ladon failed, I gave him the idea of how to steal the apples, how to trick my father, but he took all the credit."

"But—"

Gurgle, gurgle, the naiad spoke in my mind. The canoe was slowing down.

I looked ahead, and I saw why.

This was as far as they could take us. The river was blocked. A dam the size of a football stadium stood in our path.

* * *

"Hoover Dam," Thalia said. "It's huge."

We stood at the river's edge, looking up at a curve of concrete that loomed between the cliffs. People were walking along the top of the dam. They were so tiny they looked like fleas.

The naiads had left with a lot of grumbling—not in words I could understand, but it was obvious they hated this dam blocking up their nice river. Our canoes floated back downstream, swirling in the wake from the dam's discharge vents.

"Seven hundred feet tall," I said. "Built in the 1930s."

"Five million cubic acres of water," Thalia said.

Grover sighed. "Largest construction project in the United States."

Zoe stared at us. "How do you know all that?"

"Annabeth," I said. "She liked architecture."

"She was nuts about monuments," Thalia said.

"Spouted facts all the time." Grover sniffled. "So annoying."

"I wish she were here," Percy said.

We all nodded. Zoe was still looking at us strangely, but I didn't care. It seemed like cruel fate that we'd come to Hoover Dam, one of Annabeth's personal favorites, and she wasn't here to see it.

"We should go up there," I said. "For her sake. Just to say we've been."

"You are mad," Zoe decided. "But that's where the road is." She pointed to a huge parking garage next to the top of the dam. "And so, sightseeing it is."

* * *

We had to walk for almost an hour before we found a path that led up to the road. It came up on the east side of the river. Then we straggled back toward the dam. It was cold and windy on top. On one side, a big lake spread out, ringed by barren desert mountains. On the other side, the dam dropped away like the world's most dangerous skateboard ramp, down to the river seven hundred feet below, and water that churned from the dam's vents.

Thalia walked in the middle of the road, far away from the edges. Grover kept sniffing the wind and looking nervous. He didn't say anything, but I knew he smelled monsters.

"How close are they?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "Maybe not close. The wind on the dam, the desert all around us... the scent can probably carry for miles. But it's coming from several directions. I don't like that."

I didn't either. It was already Wednesday, only two days until winter solstice, and we still had a long way to go. We didn't need any more monsters.

"There's a snack bar in the visitor center," Thalia said.

"You've been here before?" I asked.

"Once. To see the guardians." She pointed to the far end of the dam. Carved into the side of the cliff was a little plaza with two big bronze statues. They looked kind of like Oscar statues with wings.

"They were dedicated to Zeus when the dam was built," Thalia said. "A gift from Athena."

Tourists were clustered all around them. They seemed to be looking at the statues' feet.

"What are they doing?" Percy asked.

"Rubbing the toes," Thalia said. "They think it's good luck."

"Why?"

She shook her head. "Mortals get crazy ideas. They don't know the statues are sacred to Zeus, but they know there's something special about them."

"When you were here last, did they talk to you or anything?"

Thalia's expression darkened. I could tell that she'd come here before hoping for exactly that—some kind of sign from her dad. Some connection. "No. They don't do anything. They're just big metal statues."

I thought about the last big metal statue we'd run into. That hadn't gone so well. But I decided not to bring it up.

"Let us find the dam snack bar," Zoe said. "We should eat while we can."

Grover cracked a smile. "The dam snack bar?"

Zoe blinked. "Yes. What is funny?"

"Nothing," Grover said, trying to keep a straight face. "I could use some dam french fries."

Even Thalia smiled at that. "And I need to use the dam restroom."

Maybe it was the fact that we were so tired and strung out emotionally, but I started cracking up, and Thalia, Percy, and Grover joined in, while Zoe just looked at us. "I do not understand."

"I want to use the dam water fountain," Grover said.

"And..." Thalia tried to catch her breath. "I want to buy a dam T-shirt."

I busted up, and I probably would've kept laughing all day, but then I heard a noise:

"Moooo."

The smile melted off my face. I wondered if the noise was just in my head, but Grover had stopped laughing too. He was looking around, confused. "Did I just hear a cow?"

"A dam cow?" Thalia laughed.

"No," Grover said. "I'm serious."

Zoe listened. "I hear nothing."

Thalia was looking at Percy. "Percy, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "You guys go ahead. I'll be right in."

"What's wrong?" Grover asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I... I just need a minute. To think."

"You guys can go ahead," I said. "I'll stay here with him."

They hesitated, but they finally went into the visitor center without us. As soon as they were gone, Percy jogged to the north edge of the dam and looked over. I ran after him.

"Moo."

She was about thirty feet below in the lake, but I could see her clearly: my friend from Long Island Sound, Bessie the cow serpent.

I looked around. There were groups of kids running along the dam. A lot of senior citizens. Some families. But nobody seemed to be paying Bessie any attention yet.

"What are you doing here?" Percy asked her.

"Moo!" Her voice was urgent, like she was trying to warn us of something.

"How did you get here?" Percy asked. We were thousands of miles from Long Island, hundreds of miles inland. There was no way she could've swum all the way here. And yet, here she was.

Bessie swam in a circle and butted her head against the side of the dam. "Moo!"

She wanted us to come with her. She was telling us to hurry.

"We can't," I told her. "Our friends are inside."

She looked at me with her sad brown eyes. Then she gave one more urgent "Mooo!," did a flip, and disappeared into the water.

I hesitated. Something was wrong. She was trying to tell us that. I considered jumping over the side and following her, but then I tensed. The hairs on my arms bristled. I looked down the dam road to the east and I saw two men walking slowly towards us. They wore gray camouflage outfits that flickered over skeletal bodies.

They passed through a group of kids and pushed them aside. A kid yelled, "Hey!" One of the warriors turned, his face changing momentarily into a skull.

"Ah!" the kid yelled, and his whole group backed away.

Percy and I ran for the visitor center.

We were almost to the stairs when I heard tires squeal. On the west side of the dam, a black van swerved to a stop in the middle of the road, nearly plowing into some old people.

The van doors opened and more skeleton warriors piled out. We were surrounded.

We bolted down the stairs and through the museum entrance. The security guard at the metal detector yelled, "Hey, kids!" But we didn't stop.

We ran through the exhibits and ducked behind a tour group. I looked for my friends, but I couldn't see them anywhere. Where was the dam snack bar?

"Stop!" The metal-detector guy yelled.

There was no place to go but into an elevator with the tour group. We ducked inside just as the door closed.

"We'll be going down seven hundred feet," our tour guide said cheerfully. She was a park ranger, with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail and tinted glasses. I guess she hadn't noticed that we were being chased. "Don't worry, ladies and gentlemen, the elevator hardly ever breaks."

"Does this go to the snack bar?" Percy asked her.

A few people behind me chuckled. The tour guide looked at him. Something about her gaze made my skin tingle.

"To the turbines, young man," the lady said. "Weren't you listening to my fascinating presentation upstairs?"

"Oh, uh, sure. Is there another way out of the dam?"

"It's a dead end," a tourist behind me said. "For heaven's sake. The only way out is the other elevator."

The doors opened.

"Go right ahead, folks," the tour guide told us. "Another ranger is waiting for you at the end of the corridor."

We didn't have much choice but to go out with the group.

"And young man," the tour guide called. I looked back along with Percy. She'd taken off her glasses. Her eyes were startlingly gray, like storm clouds. "There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it."

The doors closed with the tour guide still inside, leaving us alone.

Before I could think too much about the woman in the elevator, a ding came from around the corner. The second elevator was opening, and I heard an unmistakable sound—the clattering of skeleton teeth.

I grabbed Percy's hand and ran after the tour group, through a tunnel carved out of solid rock. It seemed to run forever. The walls were moist, and the air hummed with electricity and the roar of water. We came out on a U-shaped balcony that overlooked this huge warehouse area. Fifty feet below, enormous turbines were running. It was a big room, but I didn't see any other exit, unless we wanted to jump into the turbines and get churned up to make electricity. I didn't.

Another tour guide was talking over the microphone, telling the tourists about water supplies in Nevada. I prayed that Thalia, Zoe, and Grover were okay. They might already be captured, or eating at the snack bar, completely unaware that we were being surrounded.

We worked our way around the crowd, trying not to be too obvious about it. There was a hallway at the other side of the balcony—maybe some place we could hide. Percy kept his other hand on Riptide, ready to strike.

By the time we got to the opposite side of the balcony, my nerves were shot. We backed into the little hallway and watched the tunnel we'd come from.

Then right behind me I heard a sharp Chhh! like the voice of a skeleton.

Percy uncapped Riptide and spun, slashing with his sword.

I quickly turned around.

The girl he'd just tried to slice in half yelped and dropped her Kleenex. "Oh my god.'" she shouted. "Do you always kill people when they blow their nose?"

The first thing that went through my head was that the sword hadn't hurt her. It had passed clean through her body, harmlessly. "You're mortal!"

She looked at us in disbelief. "What's that supposed to mean? Of course I'm mortal! How did you get that sword past security?"

"I didn't—Wait, you can see it's a sword?" Percy asked.

The girl rolled her eyes, which were green. She had frizzy reddish-brown hair. Her nose was also red, like she had a cold. She wore a big maroon Harvard sweatshirt and jeans that were covered with marker stains and little holes, like she spent her free time poking them with a fork.

"Well, it's either a sword or the biggest toothpick in the world," she said. "And why didn't it hurt me? I mean, not that I'm complaining. Who are you people? And whoa, what is that you're wearing? Is that made of lion fur?"

She asked so many questions so fast, it was like she was throwing rocks at me. I couldn't think of what to say. I looked at Percy's coat to see if the Nemean Lion pelt had somehow changed back to fur, but it still looked like a brown winter coat to me.

I knew the skeleton warriors were still chasing us. We had no time to waste. But I just stared at the redheaded girl.

Percy snapped his fingers. "You don't see a sword," he told the girl. "It's just a ballpoint pen."

She blinked. "Um... no. It's a sword, weirdo."

"Who are you?" I demanded.

She huffed indignantly. "Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Now, are you going to answer my questions or should I scream for security?"

"No!" I said. "I mean, we're kind of in a hurry. We're in trouble."

"In a hurry or in trouble?"

"Um, sort of both."

She looked over my shoulder and her eyes widened. "Bathroom!"

"What?"

"Bathroom! Behind me! Now!"

I don't know why, but I listened to her. I pulled Percy's hand and slipped inside the boys' bathroom and left Rachel Elizabeth Dare standing outside.

I heard the clattering, hissing sounds of skeletons as they came closer.

My grip tightened on Percy's hand and I slowly unsheathed Nikao. What was I thinking? I'd left a mortal girl out there to die. I was preparing to burst out and fight when Rachel Elizabeth Dare started talking in that rapid-fire machine gun way of hers.

"Oh my god! Did you see those kids? It's about time you got here. They tried to kill me! They had swords, for god's sake. You security guys let two sword-swinging lunatics inside a national landmark? I mean, jeez! They ran that way toward those turbine thingies. I think they went over the side or something. Maybe they fell."

The skeletons clattered excitedly. I heard them moving off.

Rachel opened the door. "All clear. But you guys had better hurry."

She looked shaken. Her face was gray and sweaty.

I peeked around the corner. Three skeleton warriors were running toward the other end of the balcony. The way to the elevator was clear for a few seconds.

"We owe you one, Rachel Elizabeth Dare." I said.

"What are those things?" she asked. "They looked like—"

"Skeletons?"

She nodded uneasily.

"Do yourself a favor," I said. "Forget it. Forget you ever saw us."

"Forget that guy tried to kill me?"

"Yeah. That, too."

"But who are you two?"

"Ariana—" I started to say. Then the skeletons turned around. "Gotta go!"

"What kind of name is Ariana Gotta-go?"

We bolted for the exit.

* * *

The cafe was packed with kids enjoying the best part of the tour—the dam lunch. Thalia, Zoe, and Grover were just sitting down with their food.

"We need to leave," I gasped. "Now!"

"But we just got our burritos!" Thalia said.

Zoe stood up, muttering an Ancient Greek curse. "They're right! Look."

The cafe windows wrapped all the way around the observation floor, which gave us a beautiful panoramic view of the skeletal army that had come to kill us.

I counted two on the east side of the dam road, blocking the way to Arizona. Three more on the west side, guarding Nevada. All of them were armed with batons and pistols.

But our immediate problem was a lot closer. The three skeletal warriors who'd been chasing us in the turbine room now appeared on the stairs. They saw us from across the cafeteria and clattered their teeth.

"Elevator!" Grover said.

We bolted that direction, but the doors opened with a pleasant ding, and three more warriors stepped out. Every warrior was accounted for, minus the one Bianca had blasted to flames in New Mexico. We were completely surrounded.

Then Grover had a brilliant, totally Grover-like idea.

"Burrito fight!" he yelled, and flung his Guacamole Grande at the nearest skeleton.

Now, if you have never been hit by a flying burrito, count yourself lucky. In terms of deadly projectiles, it's right up there with grenades and cannonballs. Grover's lunch hit the skeleton and knocked his skull clean off his shoulders. I'm not sure what the other kids in the cafe saw, but they went crazy and started throwing their burritos and baskets of chips and sodas at each other, shrieking and screaming.

The skeletons tried to aim their guns, but it was hopeless. Bodies and food and drinks were flying everywhere.

In the chaos, Thalia and Percy tackled the other two skeletons on the stairs and sent them flying into the condiment table. Then we all raced downstairs, Guacamole Grandes whizzing past our heads.

"What now?" Grover asked as we burst outside.

I didn't have an answer. The warriors on the road were closing in from either direction. We ran across the street to the pavilion with the winged bronze statues, but that just put our backs to the mountain.

The skeletons moved forward, forming a crescent around us. Their brethren from the cafe were running up to join them. One was still putting its skull back on its shoulders. Another was covered in ketchup and mustard. Two more had burritos lodged in their rib cages. They didn't look happy about it. They drew batons and advanced.

"Five against eleven," Zoe muttered. "And they cannot die."

"It's been nice adventuring with you guys," Grover said, his voice trembling.

"Whoa," Percy said. "Their toes really are bright."

"Percy!" Thalia said. "This isn't the time."

"Thalia," Percy said. "Pray to your dad."

She glared at him. "He never answers."

"Just this once," he pleaded. "Ask for help. I think... I think the statues can give us some luck."

Six skeletons raised their guns. The other five came forward with batons. Fifty feet away. Forty feet.

"Do it!" I yelled.

"No!" Thalia said. "He won't answer me."

"This time is different!" Percy said.

"Who says?"

"Athena, I think."

Thalia scowled like she was sure he'd gone crazy.

"Try it," Grover pleaded.

Thalia closed her eyes. Her lips moved in a silent prayer.

And nothing happened.

The skeletons closed in. I raised Nikao to defend myself. Thalia held up her shield. Zoe pushed Grover behind her and aimed an arrow at a skeleton's head.

A shadow fell over me. I thought maybe it was the shadow of death. Then I realized it was the shadow of an enormous wing. The skeletons looked up too late. A flash of bronze, and all five of the baton-wielders were swept aside.

The other skeletons opened fire. The bronze angels stepped in front of us and folded their wings like shields. Bullets pinged off of them like rain off a corrugated roof. Both angels slashed outward, and the skeletons went flying across the road.

"Man, it feels good to stand up!" the first angel said. His voice sounded tinny and rusty, like he hadn't had a drink since he'd been built.

"Will ya look at my toes?" the other said. "Holy Zeus, what were those tourists thinking?"

As stunned as I was by the angels, I was more concerned with the skeletons. A few of them were getting up again, reassembling, bony hands groping for their weapons.

"Trouble!" I said.

"Get us out of here!" Thalia yelled.

Both angels looked down at her. "Zeus's kid?"

"Could I get a please, Miss Zeus's Kid?" an angel asked.

"Please!"

The angels looked at each other and shrugged.

"Could use a stretch," one decided.

And the next thing I knew, one of them grabbed Thalia, Percy, and me, the other grabbed Zoe and Grover, and we flew straight up, over the dam and the river, the skeleton warriors shrinking to tiny specks below us and the sound of gunfire echoing off the sides of the mountains.


	45. 45

"Tell me when it's over," Thalia said. Her eyes were shut tight. The statue was holding on to us so we couldn't fall, but still Thalia clutched my arm like it was the most important thing in the world.

"Everything's fine," I promised.

"Are... are we very high?"

I looked down. Below us, a range of snowy mountains zipped by. I stretched out my foot and kicked snow off one of the peaks.

"Nah," I said. "Not that high."

"We are in the Sierras.'" Zoe yelled. She and Grover were hanging from the arms of the other statue. "I have hunted here before. At this speed, we should be in San Francisco in a few hours."

"Hey, hey, Frisco!" our angel said.

"Yo, Chuck! We could visit those guys at the Mechanics Monument again! They know how to party!"

"Oh, man," the other angel said. "I am so there!"

"You guys have visited San Francisco?" Percy asked.

"We automatons gotta have some fun once in a while, right?" our statue said. "Those mechanics took us over to the Young Museum and introduced us to these marble lady statues, see. And—"

"Hank!" the other statue Chuck cut in. "They're kids, man."

"Oh, right." If bronze statues could blush, I swear Hank did. "Back to flying."

We sped up, so I could tell the angels were excited. The mountains fell away into hills, and then we were zipping along over farmland and towns and highways.

Grover played his pipes to pass the time. Zoe got bored and started shooting arrows at random billboards as we flew by. Every time she saw a Target department store—and we passed dozens of them—she would peg the store's sign with a few bulls-eyes at a hundred miles an hour.

Thalia kept her eyes closed the whole way. She muttered to herself a lot, like she was praying.

"You did good back there," Percy told her. "Zeus listened."

It was hard to tell what she was thinking with her eyes closed.

"Maybe," she said. "How did you guys get away from the skeletons in the generator room, anyway? You said they cornered you."

He told her about the weird mortal girl, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, and Thalia nodded.

"Some mortals are like that," she said. "Nobody knows why."

"Well, the girl was annoying," Percy said. "But I'm glad I didn't vaporize her. That would've been bad."

Thalia nodded. "Must be nice to be a regular mortal." She said that as if she'd given it a lot of thought.

* * *

"Where you guys want to land?" Hank asked, waking Percy up from a nap.

I looked down and said, "Whoa."

I'd seen San Francisco in pictures before, but never in real life. It was probably the most beautiful city I'd ever seen: kind of like a smaller, cleaner Manhattan, if Manhattan had been surrounded by green hills and fog. There was a huge bay and ships, islands and sailboats, and the Golden Gate Bridge sticking up out of the fog. I felt like I should take a picture or something. Greetings from Frisco. Haven't Died Yet. Wish You Were Here.

"There," Zoe suggested. "By the Embarcadero Building."

"Good thinking," Chuck said. "Me and Hank can blend in with the pigeons."

We all looked at him.

"Kidding," he said. "Sheesh, can't statues have a sense of humor?"

As it turned out, there wasn't much need to blend in. It was early morning and not many people were around. We freaked out a homeless guy on the ferry dock when we landed. He screamed when he saw Hank and Chuck and ran off yelling something about metal angels from Mars.

We said our good-byes to the angels, who flew off to party with their statue friends. That's when I realized I had no idea what we were going to do next.

We'd made it to the West Coast. Artemis was here somewhere. Annabeth too, I hoped. But I had no idea how to find them, and tomorrow was the winter solstice. Nor did I have any clue what monster Artemis had been hunting. It was supposed to find us on the quest. It was supposed to "show the trail," but it never had. Now we were stuck on the ferry dock with not much money, no friends, and no luck.

After a brief discussion, we agreed that we needed to figure out just what this mystery monster was.

"But how?" Percy asked.

"Nereus," Grover said.

Percy looked at him. "What?"

"Isn't that what Apollo told you to do? Find Nereus?"

He nodded.

"The old man of the sea," Percy remembered. "I'm supposed to find him and force him to tell us what he knows. But how do I find him?"

Zoe made a face. "Old Nereus, eh?"

"You know him?" Thalia asked.

"My mother was a sea goddess. Yes, I know him. Unfortunately, he is never very hard to find. Just follow the smell."

"What do you mean?" Percy asked.

"Come," she said without enthusiasm. "I will show thee."

* * *

We stopped at the Goodwill drop box. Five minutes later, Zoe had Percy outfitted in a ragged flannel shirt and jeans three sizes too big, bright red sneakers, and a floppy rainbow hat.

"Oh, yeah," Grover said, trying not to bust out laughing, "you look completely inconspicuous now."

Zoe nodded with satisfaction. "A typical male vagrant."

"Thanks a lot," Percy grumbled. "Why am I doing this again?"

"I told thee. To blend in."

She led the way back down to the waterfront. After a long time spent searching the docks, Zoe finally stopped in her tracks. She pointed down a pier where a bunch of homeless guys were huddled together in blankets, waiting for the soup kitchen to open for lunch.

"He will be down there somewhere," Zoe said. "He never travels very far from the water. He likes to sun himself during the day."

"How do I know which one is him?"

"Sneak up," she said. "Act homeless. You will know him. He will smell... different."

"Great." Percy said. "And once I find him?"

"Grab him," she said. "And hold on. He will try anything to get rid of thee. Whatever he does, do not let go. Force him to tell thee about the monster."

"We've got your back," I said. I picked something off the back of his shirt—a big clump of fuzz that came from who-knows-where. "Eww. On second thought... I don't want your back. But we'll be rooting for you."

Grover gave him a big thumbs-up. Percy grumbled about something and then headed toward the dock.

We all ran down the steps from the pier when we saw that Percy had caught him.

"You got him!" Zoe said.

"You don't have to sound so amazed," Percy said.

Nereus moaned. "Oh, wonderful. An audience for my humiliation! The normal deal, I suppose? You'll let me go if I answer your question?"

"I've got more than one question," Percy said.

"Only one question per capture! That's the rule."

Percy looked at us. This wasn't good. We needed to find Artemis, and we needed to figure out what the doomsday creature was. We also needed to know if Annabeth was still alive, and how to rescue her. How could he ask that all in one question?

Percy sighed. "All right, Nereus. Tell me where to find this terrible monster that could bring an end to the gods. The one Artemis was hunting."

The Old Man of the Sea smiled, showing off his mossy green teeth.

"Oh, that's too easy," he said evilly. "He's right there."

Nereus pointed to the water at his feet.

"Where?" Percy said.

"The deal is complete!" Nereus gloated. With a pop, he turned into a goldfish and did a backflip into the sea.

"You tricked me!" Percy yelled.

"Wait." Thalia's eyes widened. "What is that?"

"MOOOOOOOO!"

I looked down, and there was my friend the cow serpent, swimming next to the dock. She nudged Percy's shoe and gave him the sad brown eyes.

"Ah, Bessie," Percy said. "Not now."

"Mooo!"

Grover gasped. "He says his name isn't Bessie."

"You can understand her... er, him?"

Grover nodded. "It's a very old form of animal speech. But he says his name is the Ophiotaurus."

"The Ophi-what?"

"It means serpent bull in Greek," Thalia said. "But what's it doing here?"

"Moooooooo!"

"He says Percy is his protector," Grover announced. "And he's running from the bad people. He says they are close."

I was wondering how you got all that out of a single moooooo.

"Wait," Zoe said, looking at Percy. "You know this cow?"

Percy told them the story.

Thalia shook her head in disbelief. "And you two just forgot to mention this before?"

"Well... yeah." Percy said.

It seemed silly, now that she said it, but things had been happening so fast. Bessie, the Ophiotaurus, seemed like a minor detail.

"I am a fool," Zoe said suddenly. "I know this story!"

"What story?"

"From the War of the Titans," she said. "My... my father told me this tale, thousands of years ago. This is the beast we are looking for."

"Bessie?" I looked down at the bull serpent. "But... he's too cute. He couldn't destroy the world."

"That is how we were wrong," Zoe said. "We've been anticipating a huge dangerous monster, but the Ophiotaurus does not bring down the gods that way. He must be sacrificed."

"MMMM," Bessie lowed.

"I don't think he likes the S-word," Grover said.

"How could anyone hurt him?" I said. "He's harmless."

Zoe nodded. "But there is power in killing innocence. Terrible power. The Fates ordained a prophecy eons ago, when this creature was born. They said that whoever killed the Ophiotaurus and sacrificed its entrails to fire would have the power to destroy the gods."

"MMMMMM!"

"Um," Grover said. "Maybe we could avoid talking about entrails, too."

Thalia stared at the cow serpent with wonder. "The power to destroy the gods... how? I mean, what would happen?"

"No one knows," Zoe said. "The first time, during the Titan war, the Ophiotaurus was in fact slain by a giant ally of the Titans, but thy father, Zeus, sent an eagle to snatch the entrails away before they could be tossed into the fire. It was a close call. Now, after three thousand years, the Ophiotaurus is reborn."

Thalia sat down on the dock. She stretched out her hand. Bessie went right to her. Thalia placed her hand on his head. Bessie shivered.

Thalia's expression bothered me. She almost looked... hungry.

"We have to protect him," I told her. "If Luke gets hold of him—"

"Luke wouldn't hesitate," Thalia muttered. "The power to overthrow Olympus. That's... that's huge."

"Yes, it is, my dear," said a man's voice in a heavy French accent. "And it is a power you shall unleash."

The Ophiotaurus made a whimpering sound and submerged.

I looked up. We'd been so busy talking, we'd allowed ourselves to be ambushed.

Standing behind us, his two-color eyes gleaming wickedly, was Dr. Thorn, the manticore himself.

* * *

"This is just pairrr-fect," the manticore gloated.

He was wearing a ratty black trench coat over his Westover Hall uniform, which was torn and stained. His military haircut had grown out spiky and greasy. He hadn't shaved recently, so his face was covered in silver stubble. Basically he didn't look much better than the guys down at the soup kitchen.

"Long ago, the gods banished me to Persia," the manticore said. "I was forced to scrounge for food on the edges of the world, hiding in forests, devouring insignificant human farmers for my meals. I never got to fight any great heroes. I was not feared and admired in the old stories! But now that will change. The Titans shall honor me, and I shall feast on the flesh of half-bloods!"

On either side of him stood two armed security guys, some of the mortal mercenaries I'd seen in D.C. Two more stood on the next boat dock over, just in case we tried to escape that way. There were tourists all around—walking down the waterfront, shopping at the pier above us—but I knew that wouldn't stop the manticore from acting.

"Where... where are the skeletons?" Percy asked the manticore.

He sneered. "I do not need those foolish undead! The General thinks I am worthless? He will change his mind when I defeat you myself!"

I needed time to think. I had to save Bessie. I could dive into the sea, but how could I make a quick getaway with a five-hundred-pound cow serpent? And what about my friends?

"We beat you once before," Percy said.

"Ha! You could barely fight me with two goddesses on your side. And, alas... one goddess is preoccupied at the moment. There will be no help for you now."

Zoe notched an arrow and aimed it straight at the manticore's head. The guards on either side of us raised their guns.

"Wait!" Percy said. "Zoe, don't!"

The manticore smiled. "The boy is right, Zoe Nightshade. Put away your bow. It would be a shame to kill you before you witnessed Thalia's great victory."

"What are you talking about?" Thalia growled. She had her shield and spear ready.

"Surely it is clear," the manticore said. "This is your moment. This is why Lord Kronos brought you back to life. You will sacrifice the Ophiotaurus. You will bring its entrails to the sacred fire on the mountain. You will gain unlimited power. And for your sixteenth birthday, you will overthrow Olympus."

No one spoke. It made terrible sense. Thalia was only two days away from turning sixteen. She was a child of the Big Three. And here was a choice, a terrible choice that could mean the end of the gods. It was just like the prophecy said. Doomsday was happening right now.

I waited for Thalia to tell the manticore off, but she hesitated. She looked completely stunned.

"You know it is the right choice," the manticore told her. "Your friend Luke recognized it. You shall be reunited with him. You shall rule this world together under the auspices of the Titans. Your father abandoned you, Thalia. He cares nothing for you. And now you shall gain power over him. Crush the Olympians underfoot, as they deserve. Call the beast! It will come to you. Use your spear."

"Thalia," I said, "snap out of it!"

She looked at me the same way she had the morning she woke up on Half-Blood Hill, dazed and uncertain. It was almost like she didn't know me. "I... I don't—"

"Your father helped you," I said. "He sent the metal angels. He turned you into a tree to preserve you."

Her hand tightened on the shaft of her spear.

I looked at Grover desperately. Thank the gods, he understood what I needed. He raised his pipes to his mouth and played a quick riff.

The manticore yelled, "Stop him!"

The guards had been targeting Zoe, and before they could figure out that the kid with the pipes was the bigger problem, the wooden planks at their feet sprouted new branches and tangled their legs. Zoe let loose two quick arrows that exploded at their feet in clouds of sulfurous yellow smoke. Fart arrows!

The guards started coughing. The manticore shot spines in our direction.

"Grover," Percy said, "tell Bessie to dive deep and stay down!"

"Moooooo!" Grover translated.

I could only hope that Bessie got the message.

"The cow..." Thalia muttered, still in a daze.

"Come on!" I pulled her along as we ran up the stairs to the shopping center on the pier. We dashed around the corner of the nearest store. I heard the manticore shouting at his minions, "Get them!" Tourists screamed as the guards shot blindly into the air.

We scrambled to the end of the pier. We hid behind a little kiosk filled with souvenir crystals—wind chimes and dream catchers and stuff like that, glittering in the sunlight. There was a water fountain next to us. Down below, a bunch of sea lions were sunning themselves on the rocks. The whole of San Francisco Bay spread out before us: the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz Island, and the green hills and fog beyond that to the north. A picture-perfect moment, except for the fact that we were about to die and the world was going to end.

"Go over the side!" Zoe told Percy. "You can escape in the sea, Percy. Call on thy father for help. Maybe you can save the Ophiotaurus."

"I won't leave you guys," Percy said. "We fight together."

"You have to get word to camp!" Grover said. "At least let them know what's going on!"

Then I noticed the crystals making rainbows in the sunlight. There was a drinking fountain next to him...

Percy uncapped Riptide and slashed off the top of the water fountain. Water burst out of the busted pipe and sprayed all over us.

Thalia gasped as the water hit her. The fog seemed to clear from her eyes. "Are you crazy?" she asked.

But Grover understood. He was already fishing around in his pockets for a coin. He threw a golden drachma into the rainbows created by the mist and yelled, "O goddess, accept my offering!"

The mist rippled.

"Camp Half-Blood!" Percy said.

And there, shimmering in the Mist right next to us, was the last person I wanted to see: Dionysus, wearing his leopard-skin jogging suit and rummaging through the refrigerator.

He looked up lazily. "Do you mind?"

"Where's Chiron!" Percy shouted.

"How rude." Dionysus took a swig from a jug of grape juice. "Is that how you say hello?"

"Hello," Percy amended. "We're about to die! Where's Chiron?"

Dionysus considered that. I wanted to scream at him to hurry up, but I knew that wouldn't work. Behind us, footsteps and shouting—the manticore's troops were closing in.

"About to die," Dionysus mused. "How exciting. I'm afraid Chiron isn't here. Would you like me to take a message?"

Percy looked at us. "We're dead."

Thalia gripped her spear. She looked like her old angry self again. "Then we'll die fighting."

"How noble," Dionysus said, stifling a yawn. "So what is the problem, exactly?"

I didn't see that it would make any difference, but Percy told him about the Ophiotaurus.

"Mmm." He studied the contents of the fridge. "So that's it. I see."

"You don't even care!" I screamed. "You'd just as soon watch us die!"

"Let's see. I think I'm in the mood for pizza tonight."

I wanted to slash through the rainbow and disconnect, but I didn't have time. The manticore screamed, "There!" And we were surrounded. Two of the guards stood behind him. The other two appeared on the roofs of the pier shops above us. The manticore threw off his coat and transformed into his true self, his lion claws extended and his spiky tail bristling with poison barbs.

"Excellent," he said. He glanced at the apparition in the mist and snorted. "Alone, without any real help. Wonderful."

Zoe readied her arrows. Grover lifted his pipes. Thalia raised her shield, and I noticed a tear running down her cheek. Suddenly it occurred to me: this had happened to her before. She had been cornered on Half-Blood Hill. She'd willingly given her life for her friends. But this time, she couldn't save us.

The manticore grinned.

"Spare the daughter of Zeus and daughter of all Twelve. They will join us soon enough. Kill the others."

The men raised their guns, and something strange happened. You know how you feel when all the blood rushes to your head, like if you hang upside down and turn right-side up too quickly? There was a rush like that all around me, and a sound like a huge sigh. The sunlight tinged with purple. I smelled grapes and something more sour—wine.

SNAP!

It was the sound of many minds breaking at the same time. The sound of madness. One guard put his pistol between his teeth like it was a bone and ran around on all fours. Two others dropped their guns and started waltzing with each other. The fourth began doing what looked like an Irish clogging dance. It would have been funny if it hadn't been so terrifying.

"No!" screamed the manticore. "I will deal with you myself!"

His tail bristled, but the planks under his paws erupted into grape vines, which immediately began wrapping around the monster's body, sprouting new leaves and clusters of green baby grapes that ripened in seconds as the manticore shrieked, until he was engulfed in a huge mass of vines, leaves, and full clusters of purple grapes. Finally the grapes stopped shivering, and I had a feeling that somewhere inside there, the manticore was no more.

"Well," said Dionysus, closing his refrigerator. "That was fun."

I stared at him, horrified. "How could you... How did you—"

"Such gratitude," he muttered. "The mortals will come out of it. Too much explaining to do if I made their condition permanent. I hate writing reports to Father."

He stared resentfully at Thalia. "I hope you learned your lesson, girl. It isn't easy to resist power, is it?"

Thalia blushed as if she were ashamed.

"Mr. D," Grover said in amazement. "You... you saved us."

"Mmm. Don't make me regret it, satyr. Now get going, Percy Jackson. I've bought you a few hours at most."

"The Ophiotaurus," Percy said. "Can you get it to camp?"

Dionysus sniffed. "I do not transport livestock. That's your problem."

"But where do we go?"

Dionysus looked at Zoe. "Oh, I think the huntress knows. You must enter at sunset today, you know, or all is lost. Now good-bye. My pizza is waiting."

"Mr. D," Percy said.

He raised his eyebrow.

"You called me by my right name," Percy said. "You called me Percy Jackson."

"I most certainly did not, Peter Johnson. Now off with you!"

He waved his hand, and his image disappeared in the mist.

All around us, the manticore's minions were still acting completely nuts. One of them had found our friend the homeless guy, and they were having a serious conversation about metal angels from Mars. Several other guards were harassing the tourists, making animal noises and trying to steal their shoes.

I looked at Zoe. "What did he mean... 'You know where to go'?"

Her face was the color of the fog. She pointed across the bay, past the Golden Gate. In the distance, a single mountain rose up above the cloud layer.

"The garden of my sisters," she said. "I must go home."


	46. 46

"We will never make it," Zoe said. "We are moving too slow. But we cannot leave the Ophiotaurus."

"Mooo," Bessie said. He swam next to me as we jogged along the waterfront. We'd left the shopping center pier far behind. We were heading toward the Golden Gate Bridge, but it was a lot farther than I'd realized. The sun was already dipping in the west.

"I don't get it," Percy said. "Why do we have to get there at sunset?"

"The Hesperides are the nymphs of the sunset," Zoe said. "We can only enter their garden as day changes to night."

"What happens if we miss it?"

"Tomorrow is winter solstice. If we miss sunset tonight, we would have to wait until tomorrow evening. And by then, the Olympian Council will be over. We must free Lady Artemis tonight."

Or Annabeth will be dead, I thought, but I didn't say that.

"We need a car," Thalia said.

"But what about Bessie?" I asked.

Grover stopped in his tracks. "I've got an idea! The Ophiotaurus can appear in different bodies of water, right?"

"Well, yeah," I said. "I mean, he was in Long Island Sound. Then he just popped into the water at Hoover Dam. And now he's here."

"So maybe we could coax him back to Long Island Sound," Grover said. "Then Chiron could help us get him to Olympus."

"But he was following Percy and me." I said. "If we're not there, would he know where he's going?"

"Moo," Bessie said forlornly.

"I... I can show him," Grover said. "I'll go with him."

I stared at him. Grover was no fan of the water. He'd almost drowned last summer in the Sea of Monsters, and he couldn't swim very well with his goat hooves.

"I'm the only one who can talk to him," Grover said. "It makes sense."

He bent down and said something in Bessie's ear. Bessie shivered, then made a contented, lowing sound.

"The blessing of the Wild," Grover said. "That should help with safe passage. Percy, pray to your dad, too. See if he will grant us safe passage through the seas."

I didn't understand how they could possibly swim back to Long Island from California. Then again, monsters didn't travel the same way as humans. I'd seen plenty evidence of that.

"Dad," Percy said. "Help us. Get the Ophiotaurus and Grover safely to camp. Protect them at sea."

"A prayer like that needs a sacrifice," I said. "Something big."

Percy took off his coat.

"Percy," Grover said. "Are you sure? That lion skin... that's really helpful. Hercules used it!"

Percy glanced at Zoe, who was watching him carefully.

"If I'm going to survive," Percy said, "it won't be because I've got a lion-skin cloak. I'm not Hercules."

He threw the coat into the bay. It turned back into a golden lion skin, flashing in the light. Then, as it began to sink beneath the waves, it seemed to dissolve into sunlight on the water.

The sea breeze picked up.

Grover took a deep breath. "Well, no time to lose."

He jumped in the water and immediately began to sink. Bessie glided next to him and let Grover take hold of his neck.

"Be careful," I told them.

"We will," Grover said. "Okay, um... Bessie? We're going to Long Island. It's east. Over that way."

"Moooo?" Bessie said.

"Yes," Grover answered. "Long Island. It's this island. And... it's long. Oh, let's just start."

"Mooo!"

Bessie lurched forward. He started to submerge and Grover said, "I can't breathe underwater! Just thought I'd mention—" Glub!

"Well, that is one problem addressed," Zoe said. "But how can we get to my sisters' garden?"

"Thalia's right," Percy said. "We need a car. But there's nobody to help us here. Unless we, uh, borrowed one."

I didn't like that option. I mean, sure this was a life-or-death situation, but still, it was stealing, and it was bound to get us noticed.

"Wait," Thalia said. She started rifling through her backpack. "There is somebody in San Francisco who can help us. I've got the address here somewhere."

"Who?" I asked.

Thalia pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and held it up. "Professor Chase. Annabeth's dad."

* * *

After hearing Annabeth gripe about her dad for two years, I was expecting him to have devil horns and fangs. I was not expecting him to be wearing an old-fashioned aviator's cap and goggles. He looked so weird, with his eyes bugging out through the glasses, that we all took a step back on the front porch.

"Hello," he said in a friendly voice, "Are you delivering my airplanes?"

Thalia, Zoe, Percy, and I looked at each other warily.

"Um, no, sir," I said.

"Drat," he said. "I need three more Sopwith Camels."

"Right," I said, though I had no clue what he was talking about. "We're friends of Annabeth."

"Annabeth?" He straightened as if I'd just given him an electric shock. "Is she all right? Has something happened?"

None of us answered, but our faces must've told him that something was very wrong. He took off his cap and goggles. He had sandy-colored hair like Annabeth and intense brown eyes. He was handsome, I guess, for an older guy, but it looked like he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and his shirt was buttoned wrong, so one side of his collar stuck up higher than the other side.

"You'd better come in," he said.

* * *

It didn't look like a house they'd just moved into. There were LEGO robots on the stairs and two cats sleeping on the sofa in the living room. The coffee table was stacked with magazines, and a little kid's winter coat was spread on the floor. The whole house smelled like fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies. There was jazz music coming from the kitchen. It seemed like a messy, happy kind of home—the kind of place that had been lived in forever.

"Dad!" a little boy screamed. "He's taking apart my robots!"

"Bobby," Dr. Chase called absently, "don't take apart your brother's robots."

"I'm Bobby," the little boy protested. "He's Matthew!"

"Matthew," Dr. Chase called, "don't take apart your brother's robots!"

"Okay, Dad!"

Dr. Chase turned to us. "We'll go upstairs to my study. This way."

"Honey?" a woman called. Annabeth's stepmom appeared in the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She was a pretty Asian woman with red highlighted hair tied in a bun.

"Who are our guests?" she asked.

"Oh," Dr. Chase said. "This is..."

He stared at us blankly.

"Frederick," she chided. "You forgot to ask them their names?" We introduced ourselves a little uneasily, but Mrs. Chase seemed really nice. She asked if we were hungry. We admitted we were, and she told us she'd bring us some cookies and sandwiches and sodas.

"Dear," Dr. Chase said. "They came about Annabeth."

I half expected Mrs. Chase to turn into a raving lunatic at the mention of her stepdaughter, but she just pursed her lips and looked concerned. "All right. Go on up to the study and I'll bring you some food." She smiled at me. "Nice meeting you, Percy and Ariana. I've heard a lot about you two."

Upstairs, we walked into Dr. Chase's study and Percy said, "Whoa!"

The room was wall-to-wall books, but what really caught my attention were the war toys. There was a huge table with miniature tanks and soldiers fighting along a blue painted river, with hills and fake trees and stuff. Old-fashioned biplanes hung on strings from the ceiling, tilted at crazy angles like they were in the middle of a dogfight.

Dr. Chase smiled. "Yes. The Third Battle of Ypres. I'm writing a paper, you see, on the use of Sopwith Camels to strafe enemy lines. I believe they played a much greater role than they've been given credit for."

He plucked a biplane from its string and swept it across the battlefield, making airplane engine noises as he knocked down little German soldiers.

"Oh, right," I said. I knew Annabeth's dad was a professor of military history. She'd never mentioned he played with toy soldiers.

Zoe came over and studied the battlefield. "The German lines were farther from the river."

Dr. Chase stared at her. "How do you know that?"

"I was there," she said matter-of-factly. "Artemis wanted to show us how horrible war was, the way mortal men fight each other. And how foolish, too. The battle was a complete waste."

Dr. Chase opened his mouth in shock. "You—"

"She's a Hunter, sir," Thalia said. "But that's not why we're here. We need—"

"You saw the Sopwith Camels?" Dr. Chase said. "How many were there? What formations did they fly?"

"Sir," Thalia broke in again. "Annabeth is in danger."

That got his attention. He set the biplane down.

"Of course," he said. "Tell me everything."

It wasn't easy, but we tried. Meanwhile, the afternoon light was fading outside. We were running out of time.

When we'd finished, Dr. Chase collapsed in his leather recliner. He laced his hands. "My poor brave Annabeth. We must hurry."

"Sir, we need transportation to Mount Tamalpais," Zoe said. "And we need it immediately."

"I'll drive you. Hmm. it would be faster to fly in my Camel, but it only seats two."

"Whoa, you have an actual biplane?" Percy said.

"Down at Crissy Field," Dr. Chase said proudly. "That's the reason I had to move here. My sponsor is a private collector with some of the finest World War I relics in the world. He let me restore the Sopwith Camel—"

"Sir," Thalia said. "Just a car would be great. And it might be better if we went without you. It's too dangerous."

Dr. Chase frowned uncomfortably. "Now wait a minute, young lady. Annabeth is my daughter. Dangerous or not, I... I can't just—"

"Snacks," Mrs. Chase announced. She pushed through the door with a tray full of peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and Cokes and cookies fresh out of the oven, the chocolate chips still gooey. Thalia and Percy inhaled a few cookies while Zoe said, "I can drive, sir. I'm not as young as I look. I promise not to destroy your car."

Mrs. Chase knit her eyebrows. "What's this about?"

"Annabeth is in danger," Dr. Chase said. "On Mount Tam. I would drive them, but... apparently it's no place for mortals."

It sounded like it was really hard for him to get that last part out.

I waited for Mrs. Chase to say no. I mean, what mortal parent would allow four underage teenagers to borrow their car? To my surprise, Mrs. Chase nodded. "Then they'd better get going."

"Right!" Dr. Chase jumped up and started patting his pockets. "My keys..."

His wife sighed. "Frederick, honestly. You'd lose your head if it weren't wrapped inside your aviator hat. The keys are hanging on the peg by the front door."

"Right!" Dr. Chase said.

Zoe grabbed a sandwich. "Thank you both. We should go. Now."

We hustled out the door and down the stairs, the Chases right behind us.

"Ariana," Mrs. Chase called as I was leaving, "tell Annabeth... Tell her she still has a home here, will you? Remind her of that."

I took one last look at the messy living room, Annabeth's half brothers spilling LEGOs and arguing, the smell of cookies filling the air. Not a bad place, I thought.

"I'll tell her," I promised.

We ran out to the yellow VW convertible parked in the driveway. The sun was going down. I figured we had less than an hour to save Annabeth.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Thalia demanded.

Zoe glared at her. "I cannot control traffic."

"You both sound like my mother," Percy said.

"Shut up!" they said in unison.

Zoe weaved in and out of traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge. The sun was sinking on the horizon when we finally got into Marin County and exited the highway.

The roads were insanely narrow, winding through forests and up the sides of hills and around the edges of steep ravines. Zoe didn't slow down at all.

"Why does everything smell like cough drops?" Percy asked.

"Eucalyptus." I pointed to the huge trees all around us.

"The stuff koala bears eat?"

"And monsters," Zoe said. "They love chewing the leaves. Especially dragons."

"Dragons chew eucalyptus leaves?"

"Believe me," Zoe said, "if you had dragon breath, you would chew eucalyptus too."

Ahead of us loomed Mount Tamalpais. I guess, in terms of mountains, it was a small one, but it looked plenty huge as we were driving toward it.

"So that's the Mountain of Despair?" Percy asked.

"Yes," Zoe said tightly.

"Why do they call it that?"

She was silent for almost a mile before answering. "After the war between the Titans and the gods, many of the Titans were punished and imprisoned. Kronos was sliced to pieces and thrown into Tartarus. Kronos's right-hand man, the general of his forces, was imprisoned up there, on the summit, just beyond the Garden of the Hesperides."

"The General," Percy said. Clouds seemed to be swirling around its peak, as though the mountain was drawing them in, spinning them like a top. "What's going on up there? A storm?"

Zoe didn't answer.

"We have to concentrate," Thalia said. "The Mist is really strong here."

"The magical kind or the natural kind?" Percy asked.

"Both."

The gray clouds swirled even thicker over the mountain, and we kept driving straight toward them. We were out of the forest now, into wide open spaces of cliffs and grass and rocks and fog.

I happened to glance down at the ocean as we passed a scenic curve, and I saw something that made me jump out of my seat.

"Look!"

But we turned a corner and the ocean disappeared behind the hills.

"What?" Thalia asked.

"A big white ship," I said. "Docked near the beach. It looked like a cruise ship."

Her eyes widened. "Luke's ship?"

I wanted to say I wasn't sure. It might be a coincidence. But I knew better. The Princess Andromeda, Luke's demon cruise ship, was docked at that beach. That's why he'd sent his ship all the way down to the Panama Canal. It was the only way to sail it from the East Coast to California.

"We will have company, then," Zoe said grimly. "Kronos's army."

I was about to answer, when suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Thalia shouted, "Stop the car. NOW!"

Zoe must've sensed something was wrong, because she slammed on the brakes without question. The yellow VW spun twice before coming to a stop at the edge of the cliff.

"Out!" Thalia opened the door and pushed Percy and me hard. We all rolled onto the pavement. The next second: BOOOM!

Lightning flashed, and Dr. Chase's Volkswagen erupted like a canary-yellow grenade. I probably would've been injured by shrapnel except for Thalia's shield, which appeared over us. I heard a sound like metal ram, and when I opened my eyes, we were surrounded by wreckage. Part of the VW's fender had impaled itself in the street. The smoking hood was spinning in circles. Pieces of yellow metal were strewn across the road.

I swallowed the taste of smoke out of my mouth.

"You saved my life." Percy said.

"One shall perish by a parent's hand" she muttered. "Curse him. He would destroy me? Me?"

It took me a second to realize she was talking about her dad. "Oh, hey, that couldn't have been Zeus's lightning bolt. No way."

"Whose, then?" Thalia demanded.

"I don't know. Zoe said Kronos's name. Maybe he—"

Thalia shook her head, looking angry and stunned. "No. That wasn't it."

"Wait," Percy said. "Where's Zoe? Zoe!"

We all got up and ran around the blasted VW. Nothing inside. Nothing either direction down the road. I looked down the cliff. No sign of her.

"Zoe!" Percy shouted.

Then she was standing right next to him, pulling him by his arm. "Silence, fool! Do you want to wake Ladon?"

"You mean we're here?"

"Very close," she said. "Follow me."

Sheets of fog were drifting right across the road. Zoe stepped into one of them, and when the fog passed, she was no longer there. I went into the fog behind her.

When the fog cleared, I was still on the side of the mountain, but the road was dirt. The grass was thicker. The sunset made a blood red slash across the sea. The summit of the mountain seemed closer now, swirling with storm clouds and raw power. There was only one path to the top, directly in front of us. And it led through a lush meadow of shadows and flowers.

If it hadn't been for the enormous dragon, the garden would've been the most beautiful place I'd ever seen. The grass shimmered with silvery evening light, and the flowers were such brilliant colors they almost glowed in the dark. Stepping stones of polished black marble led around either side of a five-story-tall apple tree, every bough glittering with golden apples, and I don't mean yellow golden apples like in the grocery store. I mean real golden apples.

"The apples of immortality," Thalia said. "Hera's wedding gift from Zeus."

There was a dragon recoiled around the tree.

Now, I don't know what you think of when I say dragon. Whatever it is, it's not scary enough. The serpent's body was as thick as a booster rocket, glinting with coppery scales. He had more heads than I could count, as if a hundred deadly pythons had been fused together. He appeared to be asleep. The heads lay curled in a big spaghetti-like mound on the grass, all the eyes closed.

Then the shadows in front of us began to move. There was a beautiful, eerie singing, like voices from the bottom of a well. Percy reached for Riptide, but I stopped his hand.

Four figures shimmered into existence, four young women who looked very much like Zoe. They all wore white Greek chitons. Their skin was like caramel. Silky black hair tumbled loose around their shoulders. It was strange, but I'd never realized how beautiful Zoe was until I saw her siblings, the Hesperides. They looked just like Zoe—gorgeous, and probably very dangerous.

"Sisters," Zoe said.

"We do not see any sister," one of the girls said coldly. "We see two half-bloods, a Hunter, and a goddess. All of whom shall soon die."

"You've got it wrong." Percy stepped forward. "Nobody is going to die."

The girls studied him. They had eyes like volcanic rock, glassy and completely black.

"Perseus Jackson," one of them said.

"Yes," mused another. "I do not see why he is a threat."

"Who said I was a threat?"

The first Hesperid glanced behind her, toward the top of the mountain. "They fear thee. They are unhappy that this one has not yet killed thee."

She pointed at Thalia.

"Tempting sometimes," Thalia admitted. "But no, thanks. He's my friend."

"There are no friends here, daughter of Zeus," the girl said. "Only enemies. Go back."

"Not without Annabeth," I said.

"And Artemis," Zoe said. "We must approach the mountain."

"You know he will kill thee," the girl said. "You are no match for him."

"Artemis must be freed," Zoe insisted. "Let us pass."

The girl shook her head. "You have no rights here anymore. We have only to raise our voices and Ladon will wake."

"He will not hurt me," Zoe said.

"No? And what about thy so-called friends?"

Then Zoe did the last thing I expected. She shouted, "Ladon! Wake!"

The dragon stirred, glittering like a mountain of pennies. The Hesperides yelped and scattered. The lead girl said to Zoe, "Are you mad?"

"You never had any courage, sister," Zoe said. "That is thy problem."

The dragon Ladon was writhing now, a hundred heads whipping around, tongues flickering and tasting the air. Zoe took a step forward, her arms raised.

"Zoe, don't," Thalia said. "You're not a Hesperid anymore. He'll kill you."

"Ladon is trained to protect the tree," Zoe said. "Skirt around the edges of the garden. Go up the mountain. As long as I am a bigger threat, he should ignore thee."

"Should," Percy said. "Not exactly reassuring."

"It is the only way," she said. "Even the four of us together cannot fight him."

Ladon opened his mouths. The sound of a hundred heads hissing at once sent a shiver down my back, and that was before his breath hit me. The smell was like acid. It made my eyes burn, my skin crawl, and my hair stand on end.

Thalia went left. Percy and I went right. Zoe walked straight toward the monster.

"It's me, my little dragon," Zoe said. "Zoe has come back."

Ladon shifted forward, then back. Some of the mouths closed. Some kept hissing. Dragon confusion. Meanwhile, the Hesperides shimmered and turned into shadows. The voice of the eldest whispered, "Fool."

"I used to feed thee by hand," Zoe continued, speaking in a soothing voice as she stepped toward the golden tree. "Do you still like lamb's meat?"

The dragon's eyes glinted.

Thalia, Percy, and I were about halfway around the garden. Ahead, I could see a single rocky trail leading up to the black peak of the mountain. The storm swirled above it, spinning on the summit like it was the axis for the whole world.

We'd almost made it out of the meadow when something went wrong. I felt the dragon's mood shift. Maybe Zoe got too close. Maybe the dragon realized he was hungry. Whatever the reason, he lunged at Zoe.

Two thousand years of training kept her alive. She dodged one set of slashing fangs and tumbled under another, weaving through the dragon's heads as she ran in our direction, gagging from the monster's horrible breath.

I drew Nikao to help.

"No!" Zoe panted. "Run!"

The dragon snapped at her side, and Zoe cried out. Thalia uncovered Aegis, and the dragon hissed. In his moment of indecision, Zoe sprinted past us up the mountain, and we followed.

The dragon didn't try to pursue. He hissed and stomped the ground, but I guess he was well trained to guard that tree. He wasn't going to be lured off even by the tasty prospect of eating some heroes.

We ran up the mountain as the Hesperides resumed their song in the shadows behind us. The music didn't sound so beautiful to me now—more like the sound track for a funeral.

At the top of mountain were ruins, blocks of black granite and marble as big as houses. Broken columns. Statues of bronze that looked as though they'd been half melted.

"The ruins of Mount Othrys," Thalia whispered in awe.

"Yes," Zoe said. "It was not here before. This is bad."

"What's Mount Othrys?" Percy asked.

"The mountain fortress of the Titans," Zoe said. "In the first war, Olympus and Othrys were the two rival capitals of the world. Othrys was—" She winced and held her side.

"You're hurt," I said. "Let me see."

"No! It is nothing. I was saying... in the first war, Othrys was blasted to pieces."

"But... how is it here?" Percy asked.

Thalia looked around cautiously as we picked our way through the rubble, past blocks of marble and broken archways. "It moves in the same way that Olympus moves. It always exists on the edges of civilization. But the fact that it is here, on this mountain, is not good."

"Why?"

"This is Atlas's mountain," Zoe said. "Where he holds—" She froze. Her voice was ragged with despair. "Where he used to hold up the sky."

We had reached the summit. A few yards ahead of us, gray clouds swirled in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touched the mountaintop, but instead rested on the shoulders of a twelve-year-old girl with auburn hair and a tattered silvery dress: Artemis, her legs bound to the rock with celestial bronze chains. Artemis was forced to hold the roof of the world.

"My lady!"

Zoe rushed forward, but Artemis said, "Stop! It is a trap. You must leave now."

Her voice was strained. She was drenched in sweat. I had never seen a goddess in pain before, but the weight of the sky was clearly too much for Artemis.

Zoe was crying. She ran forward despite Artemis's protests, and tugged at the chains.

A booming voice spoke behind us: "Ah, how touching."

We turned. The General was standing there in his brown silk suit. At his side were Luke and half a dozen dracaenae bearing the golden sarcophagus of Kronos. Annabeth stood at Luke's side. She had her hands cuffed behind her back, a gag in her mouth, and Luke was holding the point of his sword to her throat.

I met her eyes, trying to ask her a thousand questions. There was just one message she was sending me, though: RUN.

"Luke," I snarled. "Let her go."

Luke's smile was weak and pale. He looked even worse than he had three days ago in D.C. "That is the General's decision, Ariana. But it's good to see you again."

I spat at him.

The General chuckled. "So much for old friends. And you, Zoe. It's been a long time. How is my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you."

"Do not respond," Artemis groaned. "Do not challenge him."

"Wait a second," Percy said. "You're Atlas?"

The General glanced at him. "So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the general of the Titans and terror of the gods. Congratulations. I will kill you presently, as soon as I deal with this wretched girl."

"You're not going to hurt Zoe." Percy said. "I won't let you."

The General sneered. "You have no right to interfere, little hero. This is a family matter."

Percy frowned. "A family matter?"

"Yes," Zoe said bleakly. "Atlas is my father."


	47. 47

I could see the family resemblance. Atlas had the same regal expression as Zoe, the same cold proud look in his eyes that Zoe sometimes got when she was mad, though on him it looked a thousand times more evil. He was all the things I'd originally disliked about Zoe, with none of the good I'd come to appreciate.

"Let Artemis go," Zoe demanded.

Atlas walked closer to the chained goddess. "Perhaps you'd like to take the sky for her, then? Be my guest."

Zoe opened her mouth to speak, but Artemis said, "No! Do not offer, Zoe! I forbid you."

Atlas smirked. He knelt next to Artemis and tried to touch her face, but the goddess bit at him, almost taking off his fingers.

"Hoo-hoo," Atlas chuckled. "You see, daughter? Lady Artemis likes her new job. I think I will have all the Olympians take turns carrying my burden, once Lord Kronos rules again, and this is the center of our palace. It will teach those weaklings some humility."

I looked at Annabeth. She was desperately trying to tell me something. She motioned her head toward Luke.

"I don't understand," Percy said. "Why can't Artemis just let go of the sky?"

Atlas laughed. "How little you understand, young one. This is the point where the sky and the earth first met, where Ouranos and Gaia first brought forth their mighty children, the Titans. The sky still yearns to embrace the earth. Someone must hold it at bay, or else it would crush down upon this place, instantly flattening the mountain and everything within a hundred leagues. Once you have taken the burden, there is no escape." Atlas smiled. "Unless someone else takes it from you."

He approached us, studying Thalia and Percy. "So these are the best heroes of the age, eh? Not much of a challenge."

"Fight us," Percy said. "And let's see."

"Have the gods taught you nothing? An immortal does not fight a mere mortal directly. It is beneath our dignity. I will have Luke crush you instead."

"So you're another coward," Percy said.

Atlas's eyes glowed with hatred. With difficulty, he turned his attention to Thalia. "As for you, daughter of Zeus, it seems Luke was wrong about you."

"I wasn't wrong," Luke managed. He looked terribly weak, and he spoke every word as if it were painful. If I didn't hate his guts so much, I almost would've felt sorry for him. "Thalia, you still can join us. Call the Ophiotaurus. It will come to you. Look!"

He waved his hand, and next to us a pool of water appeared: a pond ringed in black marble, big enough for the Ophiotaurus. I could imagine Bessie in that pool. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I was sure I could hear Bessie mooing.

"Thalia, call the Ophiotaurus," Luke persisted. "And you will be more powerful than the gods."

"Luke..." Her voice was full of pain. "What happened to you?"

"Don't you remember all those times we talked? All those times we cursed the gods? Our fathers have done nothing for us. They have no right to rule the world!"

Thalia shook her head. "Free Annabeth. Let her go."

"If you join me," Luke promised, "it can be like old times. The three of us together. Fighting for a better world. Please, Thalia, if you don't agree..."

His voice faltered. "It's my last chance. He will use the other way if you don't agree. Please."

I didn't know what he meant, but the fear in his voice sounded real enough. I believed that Luke was in danger.

His life depended on Thalia's joining his cause. And I was afraid Thalia might believe it, too.

"Do not, Thalia," Zoe warned. "We must fight them."

Luke waved his hand again, and a fire appeared. A bronze brazier, just like the one at camp. A sacrificial flame.

"Thalia," I said. "No."

Behind Luke, the golden sarcophagus began to glow. As it did, I saw images in the mist all around us: black marble walls rising, the ruins becoming whole, a terrible and beautiful palace rising around us, made of fear and shadow.

"We will raise Mount Othrys right here," Luke promised, in a voice so strained it was hardly his. "Once more, it will be stronger and greater than Olympus. Look, Thalia. We are not weak."

He pointed toward the ocean, and my heart fell. Marching up the side of the mountain, from the beach where the Princess Andromeda was docked, was a great army. Dracaenae and Laestrygonians, monsters and half-bloods, hell hounds, harpies, and other things I couldn't even name. The whole ship must've been emptied, because there were hundreds, many more than I'd seen on board last summer. And they were marching toward us. In a few minutes, they would be here.

"This is only a taste of what is to come," Luke said. "Soon we will be ready to storm Camp Half-Blood. And after that, Olympus itself. All we need is your help."

For a terrible moment, Thalia hesitated. She gazed at Luke, her eyes full of pain, as if the only thing she wanted in the world was to believe him. Then she leveled her spear. "You aren't Luke. I don't know you anymore."

"Yes, you do, Thalia," he pleaded. "Please. Don't make me... Don't make him destroy you."

There was no time. If that army got to the top of the hill, we would be overwhelmed. I met Annabeth's eyes again. She nodded.

I looked at Thalia, Percy, and Zoe, and I decided it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to fight with friends like this.

"Now," I said.

Together, we charged.

* * *

Thalia went straight for Luke. The power of her shield was so great that his dragonwomen bodyguards fled in a panic, dropping the golden coffin and leaving him alone. But despite his sickly appearance, Luke was still quick with his sword. He snarled like a wild animal and counterattacked. When his sword, Backbiter, met Thalia's shield, a ball of lightning erupted between them, frying the air with yellow tendrils of power.

As for Percy, he did the stupidest thing in his life. He attacked the Titan Lord Atlas.

I went over to Artemis.

"The sky," I told her. "Give it to me."

"No, Ariana," Artemis said. Her forehead was beaded with metallic sweat, like quicksilver. "You don't know what you're asking. It will crush you!"

"Give me the weight of the sky!"

I didn't wait for her answer. I took out Nikao and slashed through her chains. Then I stepped next to her and braced myself on one knee—holding up my hands—and touched the cold, heavy clouds. For a moment, Artemis and I bore the weight together. It was the heaviest thing I'd ever felt, as if I were being crushed under a thousand trucks. I wanted to black out from the pain, but I breathed deeply. I can do this.

Then Artemis slipped out from under the burden, and I held it alone.

Afterward, I tried many times to explain what it felt like. I couldn't.

Every muscle in my body turned to fire. My bones felt like they were melting. I wanted to scream, but I didn't have the strength to open my mouth. I began to sink, lower and lower to the ground, the sky's weight crushing me.

I concentrated on breathing. If I could just keep the sky aloft a few more seconds. I thought about Bianca, who had given her life so we could get here. If she could do that, I could hold the sky.

My vision turned fuzzy. Everything was tinged with red. I caught glimpses of the battle, but I wasn't sure if I was seeing clearly. There was Atlas in full battle armor, jabbing with his javelin, laughing insanely as he fought. And Artemis, a blur of silver. She had two wicked hunting knives, each as long as her arm, and she slashed wildly at the Titan, dodging and leaping with unbelievable grace. She seemed to change form as she maneuvered. She was a tiger, a gazelle, a bear, a falcon. Or perhaps that was just my fevered brain. Zoe shot arrows at her father, aiming for the chinks in his armor. He roared in pain each time one found its mark, but they affected him like bee stings. He just got madder and kept fighting.

Thalia and Luke went spear on sword, lightning still flashing around them. Thalia pressed Luke back with the aura of her shield. Even he was not immune to it. He retreated, wincing and growling in frustration.

"Yield!" Thalia yelled. "You never could beat me, Luke."

He bared his teeth. "Well see, my old friend."

I saw Percy walk towards me.

"Let me hold it with you." Percy said.

"No!" I yelled. "I'll be fine."

Percy decided to slip under anyway. He slowly put his hands up, holding the clouds too.

Sweat poured down my face. My hands were slippery. My shoulders would've screamed with agony if they could. I felt like the vertebrae in my spine were being welded together by a blowtorch.

Atlas advanced, pressing Artemis. She was fast, but his strength was unstoppable. His javelin slammed into the earth where Artemis had been a split second before, and a fissure opened in the rocks. He leaped over it and kept pursuing her. She was leading him back towards us.

"You fight well for a girl." Atlas laughed. "But you are no match for me."

He feinted with the tip of his javelin and Artemis dodged. I saw the trick coming. Atlas's javelin swept around and knocked Artemis's legs off the ground. She fell, and Atlas brought up his javelin tip for the kill.

"No!" Zoe screamed. She leaped between her father and Artemis and shot an arrow straight into the Titan's forehead, where it lodged like a unicorn's horn. Atlas bellowed in rage. He swept aside his daughter with the back of his hand, sending her flying into the black rocks.

I wanted to shout her name, run to her aid, but I couldn't speak or move. I couldn't even see where Zoe had landed. Then Atlas turned on Artemis with a look of triumph in his face. Artemis seemed to be wounded. She didn't get up.

"The first blood in a new war," Atlas gloated. And he stabbed downward.

As fast as thought, Artemis grabbed his javelin shaft. It hit the earth right next to her and she pulled backward, using the javelin like a lever, kicking the Titan Lord and sending him flying over her, I saw him coming down on top of Percy and me and I realized what would happen. I loosened my grip on the sky and Atlas slammed into us. I didn't try to hold on. I let myself be pushed out of the way and rolled for all I was worth.

The weight of the sky dropped onto Atlas's back, almost smashing him flat until he managed to get to his knees, struggling to get out from under the crushing weight of the sky. But it was too late.

"Noooooo!" He bellowed so hard it shook the mountain. "Not again!"

Atlas was trapped under his old burden.

I tried to stand and fell back again, dazed from pain. My body felt like it was burning up.

Thalia backed Luke to the edge of a cliff, but still they fought on, next to the golden coffin. Thalia had tears in her eyes. Luke had a bloody slash across his chest and his pale face glistened with sweat.

He lunged at Thalia and she slammed him with her shield. Luke's sword spun out of his hands and clattered to the rocks. Thalia put her spear point to his throat.

For a moment, there was silence.

"Well?" Luke asked. He tried to hide it, but I could hear fear in his voice.

Thalia trembled with fury.

Behind her, Annabeth came scrambling, finally free from her bonds. Her face was bruised and streaked with dirt. "Don't kill him!"

"He's a traitor," Thalia said. "A traitor!"

In my daze, I realized that Artemis was no longer with me. She had run off toward the black rocks where Zoe had fallen.

"We'll bring Luke back," Annabeth pleaded. "To Olympus. He... he'll be useful."

"Is that what you want, Thalia?" Luke sneered. "To go back to Olympus in triumph? To please your dad?"

Thalia hesitated, and Luke made a desperate grab for her spear.

"No!" Annabeth shouted. But it was too late. Without thinking, Thalia kicked Luke away. He lost his balance, terror on his face, and then he fell.

"Luke!" Annabeth screamed.

We rushed to the cliff's edge. Below us, the army from the Princess Andromeda had stopped in amazement. They were staring at Luke's broken form on the rocks. Despite how much I hated him, I couldn't stand to see it. I wanted to believe he was still alive, but that was impossible. The fall was fifty feet at least, and he wasn't moving.

One of the giants looked up and growled, "Kill them!"

Thalia was stiff with grief, tears streaming down her cheeks. I pulled her back as a wave of javelins sailed over our heads. We ran for the rocks, ignoring the curses and threats of Atlas as we passed.

"Artemis!" I yelled.

The goddess looked up, her face almost as grief-stricken as Thalia's. Zoe lay in the goddess's arms. She was breathing. Her eyes were open. But still...

"The wound is poisoned," Artemis said.

"Atlas poisoned her?" Percy asked.

"No," the goddess said. "Not Atlas."

She showed us the wound in Zoe's side. I'd almost forgotten her scrape with Ladon the dragon. The bite was much worse than Zoe had let on. I could barely look at the wound. She had charged into battle against her father with a horrible cut already sapping her strength.

"The stars," Zoe murmured. "I cannot see them."

"Nectar and ambrosia," Percy said. "Come on! We have to get her some."

No one moved. Grief hung in air. The army of Kronos was just below the rise. Even Artemis was too shocked to stir. We might've met our doom right there, but then I heard a strange buzzing noise.

Just as the army of monsters came over the hill, a Sopwith Camel swooped down out of the sky.

"Get away from my daughter!" Dr. Chase called down, and his machine guns burst to life, peppering the ground with bullet holes and startling the whole group of monsters into scattering.

"Dad?" yelled Annabeth in disbelief.

"Run!" he called back, his voice growing fainter as the biplane swooped by.

This shook Artemis out of her grief. She stared up at the antique plane, which was now banking around for another strafe.

"A brave man," Artemis said with grudging approval. "Come, we must get Zoe away from here."

She raised her hunting horn to her lips, and its clear sound echoed down the valleys of Marin. Zoe's eyes were fluttering.

"Hang in there!" I told her. "It'll be all right!"

The Sopwith Camel swooped down again. A few giants threw javelins, and one flew straight between the wings of the plane, but the machine guns blazed. I realized with amazement that somehow Dr. Chase must've gotten hold of celestial bronze to fashion his bullets. The first row of snake women wailed as the machine gun's volley blew them into sulfurous yellow powder.

"That's... my dad!" Annabeth said in amazement.

We didn't have time to admire his flying. The giants and snake women were already recovering from their surprise. Dr. Chase would be in trouble soon.

Just then, the moonlight brightened, and a silver chariot appeared from the sky, drawn by the most beautiful deer I had ever seen. It landed right next to us.

"Get in," Artemis said.

Annabeth helped me get Thalia on board. Then Percy helped Artemis with Zoe. We wrapped Zoe in a blanket as Artemis pulled the reins and the chariot sped away from the mountain, straight into the air.

"Like Santa Claus's sleigh," Percy murmured.

Artemis took time to look back at him. "Indeed, young half-blood. And where do you think that legend came from?"

Seeing us safely away, Dr. Chase turned his biplane and followed us like an honor guard. It must have been one of the strangest sights ever, even for the Bay Area: a silver flying chariot pulled by deer, escorted by a Sopwith Camel.

Behind us, the army of Kronos roared in anger as they gathered on the summit of Mount Tamalpais, but the loudest sound was the voice of Atlas, bellowing curses against the gods as he struggled under the weight of the sky.


	48. 48

We landed at Crissy Field after nightfall.

As soon as Dr. Chase stepped out of his Sopwith Camel, Annabeth ran to him and gave him a huge hug. "Dad! You flew... you shot... oh my gods! That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen!"

Her father blushed. "Well, not bad for a middle-aged mortal, I suppose."

"But the celestial bronze bullets! How did you get those?"

"Ah, well. You did leave quite a few half-blood weapons in your room in Virginia, the last time you... left."

Annabeth looked down, embarrassed. I noticed Dr. Chase was very careful not to say ran away.

"I decided to try melting some down to make bullet casings," he continued. "Just a little experiment."

He said it like it was no big deal, but he had a gleam in his eye. I could understand all of a sudden why Athena had taken a liking to him. He was an excellent mad scientist at heart.

"Dad..." Annabeth faltered.

"Annabeth, Percy, Ariana," Thalia interrupted. Her voice was urgent. She and Artemis were kneeling at Zoe's side, binding the huntress's wounds.

Annabeth, Percy, and I ran over to help, but there wasn't much we could do. We had no ambrosia or nectar. No regular medicine would help. It was dark, but I could see that Zoe didn't look good. She was shivering, and the faint glow that usually hung around her was fading.

"Can't you heal her with magic?" Percy asked Artemis. "I mean... you're a goddess."

Artemis looked troubled. "Life is a fragile thing, Percy. If the Fates will the string to be cut, there is little I can do. But I can try."

She tried to set her hand on Zoe's side, but Zoe gripped her wrist. She looked into the goddess's eyes, and some kind of understanding passed between them.

"Have I... served thee well?" Zoe whispered.

"With great honor," Artemis said softly. "The finest of my attendants."

Zoe's face relaxed. "Rest. At last."

"I can try to heal the poison, my brave one."

But in that moment, I knew it wasn't just the poison that was killing her. It was her father's final blow. Zoe had known all along that the Oracle's prophecy was about her: she would die by a parent's hand. And yet she'd taken the quest anyway. She had chosen to save us, and Atlas's fury had broken her inside.

She saw Thalia, and took her hand.

"I am sorry we argued," Zoe said. "We could have been sisters."

"It's my fault," Thalia said, blinking hard. "You were right about Luke, about heroes, men—everything."

"Perhaps not all men," Zoe murmured. She smiled weakly at Percy. "Do you still have the sword, Percy?"

Percy brought out Riptide and put the pen in her hand. She grasped it contentedly. "You spoke the truth, Percy Jackson. You are nothing like... like Hercules. I am honored that you carry this sword."

A shudder ran through her body.

"Zoe—" I said.

"Stars," she whispered. "I can see the stars again, my lady."

A tear trickled down Artemis's cheek. "Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight."

"Stars," Zoe repeated. Her eyes fixed on the night sky. And she did not move again.

Thalia lowered her head. Annabeth gulped down a sob, and her father put his hands on her shoulders. Tears ran down my cheeks and I quickly wiped them away. I watched as Artemis cupped her hand above Zoe's mouth and spoke a few words in Ancient Greek. A silvery wisp of smoke exhaled from Zoe's lips and was caught in the hand of the goddess. Zoe's body shimmered and disappeared.

Artemis stood, said a kind of blessing, breathed into her cupped hand and released the silver dust to the sky. It flew up, sparkling, and vanished.

For a moment I didn't see anything different. Then Annabeth gasped. Looking up in the sky, I saw that the stars were brighter now. They made a pattern I had never noticed before—a gleaming constellation that looked a lot like a girl's figure—a girl with a bow, running across the sky.

"Let the world honor you, my Huntress," Artemis said. "Live forever in the stars."

It wasn't easy saying our good-byes. The thunder and lightning were still boiling over Mount Tamalpais in the north. Artemis was so upset she flickered with silver light. This made me nervous, because if she suddenly lost control and appeared in her fully divine form, they would disintegrate by looking at her.

"I must go to Olympus immediately," Artemis said. "I will not be able to take you, but I will send help."

The goddess set her hand on Annabeth's shoulder. "You are brave beyond measure, my girl. You will do what is right."

Then she looked quizzically at Thalia, as if she weren't sure what to make of this younger daughter of Zeus. Thalia seemed reluctant to look up, but something made her, and she held the goddess's eyes. I wasn't sure what passed between them, but Artemis's gaze softened with sympathy. Then she turned to Percy.

"You did well," she said. "For a man."

She turned to me. "I shall see you later, Ariana. Be safe."

She mounted her chariot, which began to glow. We averted our eyes. There was a flash of silver, and the goddess was gone.

"Well," Dr. Chase sighed. "She was impressive; though I must say I still prefer Athena."

Annabeth turned toward him. "Dad, I... I'm sorry that—"

"Shh." He hugged her. "Do what you must, my dear. I know this isn't easy for you."

His voice was a little shaky, but he gave Annabeth a brave smile.

Then I heard the whoosh of large wings. Three pegasi descended through the fog: two white winged horses and one pure black one.

"Blackjack!" Percy called.

Yo, boss! he called. You manage to stay alive okay without me?

"It was rough," Percy admitted.

I brought Guido and Porkpie with me.

How ya doin? The other two pegasi spoke in my mind.

Blackjack looked me over with concern, then checked out Dr. Chase, Thalia, and Annabeth. Any of these goons you want us to stampede?

"Nah," Percy said aloud. "These are my friends. We need to get to Olympus pretty fast."

No problem, Blackjack said. Except for the mortal over there. Hope he's not going.

I assured him Dr. Chase was not. The professor was staring open mouthed at the pegasi.

"Fascinating," he said. "Such maneuverability! How does the wingspan compensate for the weight of the horse's body, I wonder?"

Blackjack cocked his head. Whaaaat?

"Why, if the British had had these pegasi in the cavalry charges on the Crimea," Dr. Chase said, "the charge of the light brigade—"

"Dad!" Annabeth interrupted.

Dr. Chase blinked. He looked at his daughter and managed a smile. "I'm sorry, my dear, I know you must go."

He gave her one last awkward, well-meaning hug. As she turned to climb aboard the pegasus Guido, Dr. Chase called, "Annabeth. I know... I know San Francisco is a dangerous place for you. But please remember, you always have a home with us. We will keep you safe."

Annabeth didn't answer, but her eyes were red as she turned away. Dr. Chase started to say more, then apparently thought better of it. He raised his hand in a sad farewell and trudged away across the dark field.

Thalia and Annabeth and I mounted our pegasi. Together we soared over the bay and flew toward the eastern hills. Soon San Francisco was only a glittering crescent behind us, with an occasional flicker of lightning in the north.

Thalia was so exhausted she fell asleep on Porkpie's back. I knew she had to be really tired to sleep in the air, despite her fear of heights, but she didn't have much to worry about. Her pegasus flew with ease, adjusting himself every once in a while so Thalia stayed safely on his back.

I slept on Blackjack, still hanging onto Percy as I slept.

* * *

"There it is." Thalia's voice; she'd woken up. I had woken to the sound of her voice. She was pointing toward Manhattan, which was quickly zooming into view. "It's started."

"What's started?" Percy asked.

Then I looked where she was pointing. High above the Empire State Building, Olympus was its own island of light, a floating mountain ablaze with torches and braziers, white marble palaces gleaming in the early morning air.

"The winter solstice," Thalia said. "The Council of the Gods."


	49. 49

We circled over midtown Manhattan, making one complete orbit around Mount Olympus.

In the early-morning darkness, torches and fires made the mountainside palaces glow twenty different colors, from blood red to indigo. The twisting streets were full of demigods and nature spirits and minor godlings bustling about, riding chariots or sedan chairs carried by Cyclopes. I caught the scent of the gardens in full bloom, jasmine and roses. Music drifted up from many windows, the soft sounds of lyres and reed pipes.

Towering at the peak of the mountain was the greatest palace of all, the glowing white hall of the gods.

Our pegasi set us down in the outer courtyard, in front of huge silver gates. Before I could even think to knock, the gates opened by themselves.

Good luck, boss, Blackjack said.

"Yeah." Percy said.

Hey, if ya don't come back, can I have your cabin for my stable?

Percy looked at the pegasus.

Just a thought, he said. Sorry.

Blackjack and his friends flew off, leaving Thalia, Annabeth, Percy, and me alone. For a minute we stood there regarding the palace, the way we'd stood together in front of Westover Hall, what seemed like a million years ago.

And then, side by side, we walked into the throne room.

* * *

Twelve enormous thrones made a U around a central hearth, just like the placement of the cabins at camp. The ceiling above glittered with constellations—even the newest one, Zoe the Huntress, making her way across the heavens with her bow drawn.

All of the seats were occupied. Each god and goddess was about fifteen feet tall.

"Welcome, heroes," Artemis said.

"Mooo!"

That's when I noticed Bessie and Grover.

A sphere of water was hovering in the center of the room, next to the hearth fire. Bessie was swimming happily around, swishing his serpent tail and poking his head out the sides and bottom of the sphere. He seemed to be enjoying the novelty of swimming in a magic bubble. Grover was kneeling at Zeus's throne, as if he'd just been giving a report, but when he saw us, he cried, "You made it!"

He started to run toward us, then remembered he was turning his back on Zeus, and looked for permission.

"Go on," Zeus said. But he wasn't really paying attention to Grover. The lord of the sky was staring intently at Thalia.

Grover trotted over. None of the gods spoke. Every clop of Grover's hooves echoed on the marble floor. Bessie splashed in his bubble of water. The hearth fire crackled.

Grover gave Annabeth, Thalia, and me big hugs. Then he grasped Percy's arms. "Percy, Bessie and I made it! But you have to convince them! They can't do it!"

"Do what?" Percy asked.

"Heroes," Artemis called.

The goddess slid down from her throne and turned to human size, a young auburn haired girl, perfectly at ease in the midst of the giant Olympians. She walked toward us, her silver robes shimmering. There was no emotion in her face. She seemed to walk in a column of moonlight.

"The Council has been informed of your deeds," Artemis told us. "They know that Mount Othrys is rising in the West. They know of Atlas's attempt for freedom, and the gathering armies of Kronos. We have voted to act."

There was some mumbling and shuffling among the gods, as if they weren't all happy with this plan, but nobody protested.

"At my Lord Zeus's command," Artemis said, "my brother Apollo and I shall hunt the most powerful monsters, seeking to strike them down before they can join the Titans' cause. Lady Athena shall personally check on the other Titans to make sure they do not escape their various prisons. Lord Poseidon has been given permission to unleash his full fury on the cruise ship Princess Andromeda and send it to the bottom of the sea. And as for you, my heroes..."

She turned to face the other immortals. "These half-bloods have done Olympus a great service. Would any here deny that?"

She looked around at the assembled gods, meeting their faces individually. Zeus in his dark pin-striped suit, his black beard neatly trimmed, and his eyes sparking with energy. Next to him sat a beautiful woman with silver hair braided over one shoulder and a dress that shimmered colors like peacock feathers. The Lady Hera.

On Zeus's right, Poseidon. Next to him, a huge lump of a man with a leg in a steel brace, a misshapen head, and a wild brown beard, fire flickering through his whiskers. The Lord of the Forges, Hephaestus.

Hermes winked. He was wearing a business suit today, checking messages on his caduceus mobile phone. Apollo leaned back in his golden throne with his shades on. He had iPod headphones on, so I wasn't sure he was even listening, but he gave me a thumbs-up. Dionysus looked bored, twirling a grape vine between his fingers. And Ares, well, he sat on his chrome-and-leather throne, glowering at Percy while he sharpened a knife.

On the ladies' side of the throne room, a dark-haired goddess in green robes sat next to Hera on a throne woven of apple-tree branches. Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest. Next to her sat a beautiful gray-eyed woman in an elegant white dress. She could only be Annabeth's mother, Athena. Then there was Aphrodite, who smiled at me. I smiled back to her and she winked.

"I gotta say"—Apollo broke the silence—"these kids did okay." He cleared his throat and began to recite: "Heroes win laurels—"

"Um, yes, first class," Hermes interrupted, like he was anxious to avoid Apollo's poetry. "All in favor of not disintegrating them?"

A few tentative hands went up—Demeter, Aphrodite.

"Wait just a minute," Ares growled. He pointed at Thalia and Percy. "These two are dangerous. It'd be much safer, while we've got them here—"

"Ares," Poseidon interrupted, "they are worthy heroes. We will not blast my son to bits."

"Nor my daughter," Zeus grumbled. "She has done well."

Thalia blushed. She studied the floor.

The goddess Athena cleared her throat and sat forward. "I am proud of my daughter as well. But there is a security risk here with the other two."

"Mother!" Annabeth said. "How can you—"

Athena cut her off with a calm but firm look. "It is unfortunate that my father, Zeus, and my uncle, Poseidon, chose to break their oath not to have more children. Only Hades kept his word, a fact that I find ironic. As we know from the Great Prophecy, children of the three elder gods... such as Thalia and Percy... are dangerous. As thickheaded as he is, Ares has a point."

"Right!" Ares said. "Hey, wait a minute. Who you callin'—"

He started to get up, but a grape vine grew around his waist like a seat belt and pulled him back down.

"Oh, please, Ares," Dionysus sighed. "Save the fighting for later."

Ares cursed and ripped away the vine. "You're one to talk, you old drunk. You seriously want to protect these brats?"

Dionysus gazed down at us wearily. "I have no love for them. Athena, do you truly think it safest to destroy them?"

"I do not pass judgment," Athena said. "I only point out the risk. What we do, the Council must decide."

"I will not have them punished," Artemis said. "I will have them rewarded. If we destroy heroes who do us a great favor, then we are no better than the Titans. If this is Olympian justice, I will have none of it."

"Calm down, sis," Apollo said. "Jeez, you need to lighten up."

"Don't call me sis! I will reward them."

"Well," Zeus grumbled. "Perhaps. But the monster at least must be destroyed. We have agreement on that?"

"Bessie? You want to destroy Bessie?" Percy asked.

"Mooooooo!" Bessie protested.

My father frowned. "You have named the Ophiotaurus Bessie?"

"He's just a sea creature. A really nice sea creature. You can't destroy him." Percy said.

Poseidon shifted uncomfortably. "Percy, the monster's power is considerable. If the Titans were to steal it, or—"

"You can't," Percy insisted. He looked at Zeus and stared him right in the eye. "Controlling the prophecies never works. Isn't that true? Besides, Bess—the Ophiotaurus is innocent. Killing something like that is wrong. It's just as wrong as... as Kronos eating his children, just because of something they might do. It's wrong!"

Zeus seemed to consider this. His eyes drifted to his daughter Thalia. "And what of the risk? Kronos knows full well, if one of you were to sacrifice the beast's entrails, you would have the power to destroy us. Do you think we can let that possibility remain? You, my daughter, will turn sixteen on the morrow, just as the prophecy says."

"You have to trust them," I spoke up.

Zeus scowled. "Trust a hero?"

"Ariana is right," Artemis said. "Which is why I must first make a reward. My faithful companion, Zoe Nightshade, has passed into the stars. I must have a new lieutenant. And I intend to choose one. But first, Father Zeus, I must speak to you privately."

Zeus beckoned Artemis forward. He leaned down and listened as she spoke in his ear.

Artemis turned.

"I shall have a new lieutenant," she announced. "If she will accept it."

"Thalia," Artemis said. "Daughter of Zeus. Will you join the Hunt?"

Stunned silence filled the room. I stared at Thalia. Annabeth smiled. She squeezed Thalia's hand and let it go, as if she'd been expecting this all along. Percy stared, a confused look on his face.

"I will," Thalia said firmly.

Zeus rose, his eyes full of concern. "My daughter, consider well—"

"Father," she said. "I will not turn sixteen tomorrow. I will never turn sixteen. I won't let this prophecy be mine. I stand with my sister Artemis. Kronos will never tempt me again."

She knelt before the goddess and began the words of the oath. "I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men..."

She hugged Annabeth, who was trying hard not to cry. I hugged Thalia tight. I didn't want her to go but I knew she would be safe. Then she hugged Grover, who looked ready to pass out, like somebody had just given him an all-you-can-eat enchilada coupon. She shook Percy's hand then went to stand by Artemis's side.

"Now for the Ophiotaurus," Artemis said.

"This boy is still dangerous," Dionysus warned. "The beast is a temptation to great power. Even if we spare the boy—"

"No." Percy looked around at all the gods. "Please. Keep the Ophiotaurus safe. My dad can hide him under the sea somewhere, or keep him in an aquarium here in Olympus. But you have to protect him."

"And why should we trust you?" rumbled Hephaestus.

"I'm only fourteen," Percy said. "If this prophecy is about me, that's two more years."

"Two years for Kronos to deceive you," Athena said. "Much can change in two years, my young hero."

"Mother!" Annabeth said, exasperated.

"It is only the truth, child. It is bad strategy to keep the animal alive. Or the boy."

Poseidon stood. "I will not have a sea creature destroyed, if I can help it. And I can help it."

He held out his hand, and a trident appeared in it: a twenty foot long bronze shaft with three spear tips that shimmered with blue, watery light. "I will vouch for the boy and the safety of the Ophiotaurus."

"You won't take it under the sea!" Zeus stood suddenly. "I won't have that kind of bargaining chip in your possession."

"Brother, please," Poseidon sighed.

Zeus's lightning bolt appeared in his hand, a shaft of electricity that filled the whole room with the smell of ozone.

"Fine," Poseidon said. "I will build an aquarium for the creature here. Hephaestus can help me. The creature will be safe. We shall protect it with all our powers. The boy will not betray us. I vouch for this on my honor."

Zeus thought about this. "All in favor?"

To my surprise, a lot of hands went up. Dionysus abstained. So did Ares and Athena. But everybody else...

"We have a majority," Zeus decreed. "And so, since we will not be destroying these heroes... I imagine we should honor them. Let the triumph celebration begin!"

* * *

The Nine Muses cranked up the tunes, and I realized the music was whatever you wanted it to be: the gods could listen to classical and the younger demigods heard hip-hop or whatever, and it was all the same sound track. No arguments. No fights to change the radio station. Just requests to crank it up.

Dionysus went around growing refreshment stands out of the ground, and a beautiful woman walked with him arm in arm—his wife, Ariadne. Dionysus looked happy for the first time. Nectar and ambrosia overflowed from golden fountains, and platters of mortal snack food crowded the banquet tables. Golden goblets filled with whatever drink you wanted. Grover trotted around with a full plate of tin cans and enchiladas, and his goblet was full of double-espresso latte, which he kept muttering over like an incantation: "Pan! Pan!"

The gods had reduced themselves to human size, so they didn't accidentally trample party goers under their feet. Aphrodite had given me the blessing which changed my clothes into something a bit more formal.

I saw Percy and Athena talking.

"Percy!" I said, running through the crowd. "Oh... sorry for interrupting."

"I will leave you," Athena said. "For now."

She turned and strode through the crowds, which parted before her as if she were carrying Aegis.

"Was she giving you a hard time?" I asked.

"No," Percy said. "It's... fine."

I studied him with concern. I touched the new streak of gray in his hair that matched mine exactly—our painful souvenir from holding Atlas's burden.

"So," I said. "What do you want to do?"

The music was playing. People were dancing in the streets. Percy said, "I, uh, was thinking we got interrupted at Westover Hall. And... I think I owe you a dance."

I smiled slowly. "All right."

So Percy took my hand, and I don't know what everybody else heard, but to me it sounded like a slow dance: a little sad, but maybe a little hopeful, too.


	50. 50

Compared to Mount Olympus, Manhattan was quiet. Friday before Christmas, but it was early in the morning, and hardly anyone was on Fifth Avenue. Argus, the many-eyed security chief, picked up Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and me at the Empire State Building and ferried us back to camp through a light snowstorm. The Long Island Expressway was almost deserted.

As we trudged back up Half-Blood Hill to the pine tree where the Golden Fleece glittered, I half expected to see Thalia there, waiting for us. But she wasn't. She was long gone with Artemis and the rest of the Hunters, off on their next adventure.

Chiron greeted us at the Big House with hot chocolate and toasted cheese sandwiches. Grover went off with his satyr friends to spread the word about our strange encounter with the magic of Pan. Within an hour, the satyrs were all running around agitated, asking where the nearest espresso bar was.

Percy, Annabeth, and I sat with Chiron and some of the other senior campers—Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, and the Stoll brothers. Even Clarisse from the Ares cabin was there, back from her secretive scouting mission. I knew she must've had a difficult quest. She had a new scar on her chin, and her dirty blond hair had been cut short and ragged, like someone had attacked it with a pair of safety scissors.

"I got news," she mumbled uneasily. "Bad news."

"I'll fill you in later," Chiron said with forced cheerfulness. "The important thing is you have prevailed. And you saved Annabeth!"

Annabeth smiled at us gratefully.

"Luke is alive," Percy said. "Annabeth was right."

Annabeth sat up. "How do you know?"

Percy told her what Poseidon had said about the Princess Andromeda.

"Well." Annabeth shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "If the final battle does come when Percy is sixteen, at least we have two more years to figure something out."

I had a feeling that when she said "figure something out," she meant "get Luke to change his ways".

Chiron's expression was gloomy. Sitting by the fire in his wheelchair, he looked really old. I mean... he was really old, but he usually didn't look it.

"Two years may seem like a long time," he said. "But it is the blink of an eye. I still hope you are not the child of the prophecy, Percy. But if you are, then the second Titan war is almost upon us. Kronos's first strike will be here."

"How do you know?" Percy asked. "Why would he care about camp?"

"Because the gods use heroes as their tools," Chiron said simply. "Destroy the tools, and the gods will be crippled. Luke's forces will come here. Mortal, demigod, monstrous... We must be prepared. Clarisse's news may give us a clue as to how they will attack, but—"

There was a knock on the door, and Nico di Angelo came huffing into the parlor, his cheeks bright red from the cold.

He was smiling, but he looked around anxiously. "Hey! Where's... where's my sister?"

Dead silence. I stared at Chiron. I couldn't believe nobody had told him yet. And then I realized why. They'd been waiting for us to appear, to tell Nico in person.

"Hey, Nico." Percy got up from his chair. "Let's take a walk, okay? We need to talk."

* * *

Annabeth, Grover, and I helped Percy search the woods for hours, but there was no sign of Nico di Angelo. Percy said that he ran off after he told him the news.

"We have to tell Chiron," Annabeth said, out of breath.

"No," Percy said. Grover, Annabeth, and I stared at him.

"Um," Grover said nervously, "what do you mean... no?"

"We can't let anyone know. I don't think anyone realizes that Nico is a—"

"A son of Hades," Annabeth said. "Percy, do you have any idea how serious this is? Even Hades broke the oath! This is horrible!"

"I don't think so," I said. "I don't think Hades broke the oath."

"What?"

"He's their dad," I said, "but Bianca and Nico have been out of commission for a long time, since even before World War II."

"The Lotus Casino!" Grover said, and he told Annabeth about the conversations we'd had with Bianca on the quest. "She and Nico were stuck there for decades. They were born before the oath was made."

I nodded.

"But how did they get out?" Annabeth protested.

"Don't know," Percy admitted. "Bianca said a lawyer came and got them and drove them to Westover Hall. I don't know who that could've been, or why. Maybe it's part of this Great Stirring thing. I don't think Nico understands who he is. But we can't go telling anyone. Not even Chiron. If the Olympians find out it might start them fighting among each other again. That's the last thing we need."

Grover looked worried. "But you can't hide things from the gods. Not forever."

"I don't need forever," Percy said. "Just two years. Until I'm sixteen."

My heart thumped against my chest. "But, Percy, this means the prophecy might not be about you. It might be about Nico. We have to—"

"No," Percy said. "I choose the prophecy. It will be about me."

"Why are you saying that?" I cried. "You want to be responsible for the whole world?"

"I can't let Nico be in any more danger," Percy said. "I owe that much to his sister. I... let them both down. I'm not going to let that poor kid suffer any more."

"The poor kid who hates you and wants to see you dead," Grover reminded him.

"Maybe we can find him," Percy said. "We can convince him it's okay, hide him someplace safe."

Annabeth shivered. "If Luke gets hold of him—"

"Luke won't," Percy said. "I'll make sure he's got other things to worry about. Namely, me."

* * *

I wasn't sure Chiron believed the story Percy, Annabeth, and I told him. I think he could tell Percy was holding something back about Nico's disappearance, but in the end, he accepted it. Unfortunately, Nico wasn't the first half-blood to disappear.

"So young," Chiron sighed, his hands on the rail of the front porch. "Alas, I hope he was eaten by monsters. Much better than being recruited into the Titans' army."

That idea made me really uneasy.

"You really think the first attack will be here?" Percy asked.

Chiron stared at the snow falling on the hills. I could see smoke from the dragon guardian at the pine tree, the glitter of the distant Fleece.

"It will not be until summer, at least," Chiron said. "This winter will be hard... the hardest for many centuries. It's best that you go home to the city, Percy; try to keep your mind on school. And rest. You will need rest."

Percy looked at Annabeth. "What about you?"

Her cheeks flushed. "I'm going to try San Francisco after all. Maybe I can keep an eye on Mount Tam, make sure the Titans don't try anything else."

"You'll send an Iris-message if anything goes wrong?" I asked.

She nodded. "But I think Chiron's right. It won't be until the summer. Luke will need time to regain his strength."

I didn't like the idea of waiting.

"All right," Percy said. "Just take care of yourself. And no crazy stunts in the Sopwith Camel."

She smiled tentatively. "Deal. And, Percy—"

Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by Grover, who stumbled out of the Big House, tripping over tin cans. His face was haggard and pale, like he'd seen a specter.

"He spoke." Grover cried.

"Calm down, my young satyr," Chiron said, frowning. "What is the matter?"

"I... I was playing music in the parlor," he stammered, "and drinking coffee. Lots and lots of coffee! And he spoke in my mind!"

"Who?" I demanded.

"Pan!" Grover wailed. "The Lord of the Wild himself. I heard him! I have to... I have to find a suitcase."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Percy said. "What did he say?"

Grover stared at him. "Just three words. He said, 'I await you...'"


	51. 51

I was walking down East 81st when Percy burst out of an alley and ran straight into me.

"Hey, you're out early!" I laughed, grabbing his shoulders to keep him from tumbling into the street. "Watch where you're going."

Rachel Elizabeth Dare, covered in monster dust, came charging out of the alley, yelling, "Percy, wait up!"

My smile melted. I stared at Rachel, then at the school. I noticed the black smoke and ringing fire alarms.

I frowned at Percy. "What did you do this time? And why is she here?"

"Oh, Rachel this is Ariana. Um, Rachel's a friend, I guess."

"Hi," Rachel said. Then she turned to Percy. "You are in so much trouble. And you still owe me an explanation!"

Police sirens wailed on FDR Drive.

"Percy," I said. "We should go."

"I want to know more about half-bloods," Rachel insisted. "And monsters. And this stuff about the gods." She grabbed Percy's arm, whipped out a permanent marker, and wrote a phone number on his hand. "You're going to call me and explain, okay? You owe me that. Now get going."

"But—"

"I'll make up some story," Rachel said. "I'll tell them it wasn't your fault. Just go!"

She ran back toward the school, leaving Percy and me in the street.

"Hey!" Percy jogged after me. "There were these two empousai," Percy tried to explain. "They were cheerleaders, see, and they said camp was going to burn, and—"

I kept walking toward York Avenue.

"I'll deal with the school," Percy promised. "Honest, it'll be fine."

I didn't look at him. "I guess our afternoon is off. We should get you out of here, now that the police will be searching for you."

"You're right," Percy told me. "We have to get to Camp Half-Blood. Now."


	52. 52

We had a long taxi ride filled with a few questions, but the ride was mostly silent.

"Any word on Luke?" Percy asked.

I shook my head. This was a touchy subject for me. I had always thought of Luke as a brother. Luke was the former head counselor for Hermes who had betrayed us and joined the evil Titan Lord Kronos. When we'd fought Luke on Mount Tamalpais last winter, he'd somehow survived a fifty-foot fall off a cliff. Now, as far as I knew, he was still sailing around on his demon-infested cruise ship while his chopped-up Lord Kronos reformed, bit by bit, in a golden sarcophagus, biding his time until he had enough power to challenge the Olympian gods.

"Mount Tam is still overrun with monsters," I said. "I didn't dare go close, but I don't think Luke is up there. I think I would know if he was."

"What about Grover?" Percy asked.

"Annabeth says he's at camp," I said. "We'll see him today."

"Did he have any luck? I mean, with the search for Pan?"

"We'll see," I said. But I didn't bother to explain.

As we headed through Brooklyn, Percy used my phone to call his mom. Half-bloods try not to use cell phones if they can avoid it, because broadcasting their voices is like sending up a flare to the monsters. But I figured this call was important.

We rode in silence after that. The city melted away until we were off the expressway and rolling through the countryside of northern Long Island, past orchards and wineries and fresh produce stands.

The taxi exited on Route 25A. We headed through the woods along the North Shore until a low ridge of hills appeared on our left. I told the driver to pull over on Farm Road 3.141, at the base of Half-Blood Hill.

The driver frowned. "There ain't nothing here, miss. You sure you want out?"

"Yes, please," I handed him a roll of mortal cash, and the driver decided not to argue.

Percy and I hiked to the crest of the hill. The young guardian dragon was dozing, coiled around the pine tree, but he lifted his coppery head as we approached and let me scratch under his chin. Steam hissed out his nostrils like from a teakettle, and he went cross-eyed with pleasure.

"Hey, Peleus," I said. "Keeping everything safe?"

The last time I'd seen the dragon he'd been six feet long. Now he was at least twice that, and as thick around as the tree itself. Above his head, on the lowest branch of the pine tree, the Golden Fleece shimmered, its magic protecting the camp's borders from invasion. The dragon seemed relaxed, like everything was okay. Below us, Camp Half-Blood looked peaceful— green fields, forest, shiny white Greek buildings. The four-story farmhouse we called the Big House sat proudly in the midst of the strawberry fields. To the north, past the beach, the Long Island Sound glittered in the sunlight.

We walked down into the valley and found the summer session in full swing. Most of the campers had arrived last Friday. The satyrs were playing their pipes in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow with woodland magic. Campers were having flying horseback lessons, swooping over the woods on their pegasi. Smoke rose from the forges, and hammers rang as kids made their own weapons for Arts & Crafts. The Athena and Demeter teams were having a chariot race around the track, and over at the canoe lake some kids in a Greek trireme were fighting a large orange sea serpent. A typical day at camp.

"I need to go," I said.

"Why?" Percy asked.

"I've gotta go work on something," I said. "I'll see you later."

"Work on what?"

I glanced around, trying to find Annabeth.

"I'll ask Annabeth to tell Chiron you're here," I said. "He'll want to talk to you before the hearing."

"What hearing?"

I found Annabeth and jogged away towards her, not looking back.

* * *

Satyrs were sitting in a circle in the grass. Grover stood in the middle, facing three really old, really fat satyrs who sat on topiary thrones shaped out of rose bushes.

Grover was telling them a story. He twisted the bottom of his T-shirt, shifting nervously on his goat hooves. He hadn't changed much since last winter, maybe because satyrs age half as fast as humans. His acne had flared up. His horns had gotten a little bigger so they just stuck out over his curly hair.

Annabeth, Juniper, Clarisse, and I stood off to one side of the circle. Chiron dropped Percy next to us.

Clarisse's stringy brown hair was tied back with a camouflage bandanna. If possible, she looked even buffer, like she'd been working out. She glared at him and muttered, "Punk."

I had my arm around Juniper. She was small—petite, like me—with wispy hair the color of amber and a pretty, elfish face. She wore a green chiton and laced sandals, and she was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "It's going terribly," she sniffled.

"No, no," I patted her shoulders. "He'll be fine, Juniper."

Annabeth looked at Percy and mouthed the words Grover's girlfriend.

"Master Underwood!" the council member on the right shouted, cutting off whatever Grover was trying to say. "Do you seriously expect us to believe this?"

"B-but Silenus," Grover stammered. "It's the truth!"

The Council guy, Silenus, turned to his colleagues and muttered something. Chiron cantered up to the front and stood next to them. I remembered he was an honorary member of the council, but I'd never thought about it much. The elders didn't look very impressive. They reminded me of the goats in a petting zoo—huge bellies, sleepy expressions, and glazed eyes that couldn't see past the next handful of goat chow.

Silenus tugged his yellow polo shirt over his belly and adjusted himself on his rosebush throne. "Master Underwood, for six months—six months— we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak."

"But I did!"

"Impudence!" said the elder on the left.

"Now, Maron," Chiron said. "Patience."

"Patience, indeed!" Maron said. "I've had it up to my horns with this nonsense. As if the wild god would speak to...to him."

Juniper looked like she wanted to charge the old satyr and beat him up, but Annabeth, Clarisse, and I held her back. "Wrong fight, girlie," Clarisse muttered. "Wait."

"For six months," Silenus continued, "we have indulged you, Master Underwood. We let you travel. We allowed you to keep your searcher's license. We waited for you to bring proof of your preposterous claim. And what have you found in six months of travel?"

"I just need more time," Grover pleaded.

"Nothing!" the elder in the middle chimed in. "You have found nothing."

"But, Leneus—"

Silenus raised his hand. Chiron leaned in and said something to the satyrs. The satyrs didn't look happy. They muttered and argued among themselves, but Chiron said something else, and Silenus sighed. He nodded reluctantly.

"Master Underwood," Silenus announced, "we will give you one more chance."

Grover brightened. "Thank you!"

"One more week."

"What? But sir! That's impossible!"

"One more week, Master Underwood. And then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career. Something to suit your dramatic talents. Puppet theater, perhaps. Or tap dancing."

"But sir, I—I can't lose my searcher's license. My whole life—"

"This meeting of the council is adjourned," Silenus said. "And now let us enjoy our noonday meal!"

The old satyr clapped his hands, and a bunch of nymphs melted out of the trees with platters of vegetables, fruits, tin cans, and other goat delicacies. The circle of satyrs broke and charged the food. Grover walked dejectedly toward us. His faded blue T-shirt had a picture of a satyr on it. It read GOT HOOVES?

"Hi, Percy," he said, so depressed he didn't even offer to shake his hand. "That went well, huh?"

"Those old goats!" Juniper said. "Oh, Grover, they don't know how hard you've tried!"

"There is another option," Clarisse said darkly.

"No. No." Juniper shook her head. "Grover, I won't let you."

His face was ashen. "I—I'll have to think about it. But we don't even know where to look."

"What are you talking about?" Percy asked.

In the distance, a conch horn sounded.

I pursed my lips. "I'll fill you in later, Percy. We'd better get back to our cabins. Inspection is starting."

* * *

Every afternoon, one of the senior counselors came around with a papyrus scroll checklist. Best cabin got first shower hour, which meant hot water guaranteed. Worst cabin got kitchen patrol after dinner.

I usually didn't have a problem. I always kept my cabin neat.

I raced toward the commons area, where the twelve cabins—one for each Olympian god—made a U around the central green. The Demeter kids were sweeping out theirs and making fresh flowers grow in their window boxes. Just by snapping their fingers they could make honeysuckle vines bloom over their doorway and daisies cover their roof. I don't think they ever got last place in inspection. The guys in the Hermes cabin were scrambling around in a panic, stashing dirty laundry under their beds and accusing each other of taking stuff.

Over at the Aphrodite cabin, Silena Beauregard was just coming out, checking items off the inspection scroll. Silena was nice, but she was an absolute neat freak. She liked things to be pretty.

I went into my cabin and cleaned things up a bit. I made things pretty, as Silena would like it to be.

Then somebody behind me said, "Oh, my."

Silena Beauregard was standing in the doorway with her inspection scroll. She stepped into my cabin, did a quick twirl, then smiled at me. "Great job Ari."

She winked at me and left the room.

* * *

That afternoon, I spent some time at the canoe lake with Tyson, Percy, and Annabeth. I was really glad to see Tyson, but I was a bit distracted. I kept thinking about Grover's problem with the council. Grover was nowhere to be seen, and I felt really bad for him. Finding the lost god Pan had been his lifelong goal. His father and his uncle had both disappeared following the same dream. Last winter, Grover had heard a voice in his head: I await you—a voice he was sure belonged to Pan—but apparently his search had led nowhere. If the council took away his searcher's license now, it would crush him.

"What's this 'other way'?" Percy asked Annabeth. "The thing Clarisse mentioned?"

She picked up a stone and skipped it across the lake. "Something Clarisse scouted out. I helped her a little this spring. But it would be dangerous. Especially for Grover."

"Goat boy scares me," Tyson murmured.

I stared at him. Tyson had faced down fire-breathing bulls and sea monsters and cannibal giants. "Why would you be scared of Grover?"

"Hooves and horns," Tyson muttered nervously. "And goat fur makes my nose itchy."

And that pretty much ended our Grover conversation.

* * *

I had trouble falling asleep that night but eventually I did. I ended up having a dream. I saw the dark shore of a river. Wisps of fog drifted across black water. The beach was strewn with jagged volcanic rock. A young boy squatted at the riverbank, tending a campfire. The flames burned an unnatural blue color. Then I saw the boy's face. It was Nico di Angelo. He was throwing pieces of paper into the fire—Mythomagic trading cards, part of the game he'd been obsessed with last winter.

Nico was only ten, or maybe eleven by now, but he looked older. His hair had grown longer. It was shaggy and almost touched his shoulders. His eyes were dark. His olive skin had turned paler. He wore ripped black jeans and a battered aviator's jacket that was several sizes too big, unzipped over a black shirt. His face was grimy, his eyes a little wild. He looked like a kid who'd been living on the streets.

Nico tossed another trading card into the blue flames. "Useless," he muttered. "I can't believe I ever liked this stuff."

"A childish game, master," another voice agreed. It seemed to come from near the fire, but I couldn't see who was talking.

Nico stared across the river. On the far shore was black beach shrouded in haze. I recognized it: the Underworld. Nico was camping at the edge of the river Styx.

"I've failed," he muttered. "There's no way to get her back."

The other voice kept silent.

Nico turned toward it doubtfully. "Is there? Speak."

Something shimmered. I thought it was just firelight. Then I realized it was the form of a man—a wisp of blue smoke, a shadow. If you looked at him head-on, he wasn't there. But if you looked out of the corner of your eye, you could make out his shape. A ghost.

"It has never been done," the ghost said. "But there may be a way."

"Tell me," Nico commanded. His eyes shined with a fierce light.

"An exchange," the ghost said. "A soul for a soul."

"I've offered!"

"Not yours," the ghost said. "You cannot offer your father a soul he will eventually collect anyway. Nor will he be anxious for the death of his son. I mean a soul that should have died already. Someone who has cheated death."

Nico's face darkened. "Not that again. You're talking about murder."

"I'm talking about justice," the ghost said. "Vengeance."

"Those are not the same thing."

The ghost laughed dryly. "You will learn differently as you get older."

Nico stared at the flames. "Why can't I at least summon her? I want to talk to her. She would...she would help me."

"I will help you," the ghost promised. "Have I not saved you many times? Did I not lead you through the maze and teach you to use your powers? Do you want revenge for your sister or not?"

I didn't like the ghost's tone of voice.

Nico turned from the fire so the ghost couldn't see him, but I could. A tear traced its way down his face. "Very well. You have a plan?"

"Oh, yes," the ghost said, sounding quite pleased. "We have many dark roads to travel. We must start—"

The image shimmered. Nico vanished. The dream was over.


	53. 53

The next morning there was a lot of excitement at breakfast.

Apparently around three in the morning an Aethiopian drakon had been spotted at the borders of camp. I was so exhausted I slept right through the noise. The magical boundaries had kept the monster out, but it prowled the hills, looking for weak spots in our defenses, and it didn't seem anxious to go away until Lee Fletcher from Apollo's cabin led a couple of his siblings in pursuit. After a few dozen arrows lodged in the chinks of the drakon's armor, it got the message and withdrew.

"It's still out there," Lee warned us during announcements. "Twenty arrows in its hide, and we just made it mad. The thing was thirty feet long and bright green. It's eyes—" he shuddered.

"You did well, Lee," Chiron patted him on the shoulder. "Everyone stay alert, but stay calm. This has happened before."

"Aye," Quintus said from the head table. "And it will happen again. More and more frequently."

The campers murmured among themselves.

Everyone knew the rumors: Luke and his army of monsters were planning an invasion of the camp. Most of us expected it to happen this summer, but no one knew how or when. It didn't help that our attendance was down. We only had about eighty campers.

"This is a good reason for new war games," Quintus continued, a glint in his eyes. "We'll see how you all do with that tonight."

"Yes..." Chiron said. "Well, enough announcements. Let us bless this meal and eat." He raised his goblet. "To the gods."

We all raised our glasses and repeated the blessing.

I took my plate to the bronze brazier and scraped a portion of my food into the flames.

"Please," I whispered, "Help me with Nico, and Luke, and Grover's problem..."

There was so much to worry about I could've stood there all morning, but I headed back to the table.

Once everyone was eating, Chiron brought Grover and I to visit Percy. Grover was bleary-eyed. His shirt was inside out. He slid his plate onto the table and slumped next to Percy. I sat across from them.

Tyson shifted uncomfortably. "I will go... um... polish my fish ponies."

He lumbered off, leaving his breakfast half-eaten.

Chiron tried for a smile. He probably wanted to look reassuring, but in centaur form he towered over us, casting a shadow across the table. "Well, Percy, how did you sleep?"

"Uh, fine."

"I brought Grover and Ariana over," Chiron said, "because I thought you three might want to, ah, discuss matters. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some Iris-messages to send. I'll see you later in the day." He gave Grover a meaningful look, then trotted out of the pavilion.

"What's he talking about?" Percy asked Grover.

Grover chewed his eggs. I could tell he was distracted, because he bit the tines of his fork and chewed those down, too. "He wants you to convince me," he mumbled.

Somebody else slid next to me on the bench: Annabeth.

"I'll tell you what it's about," she said. "The Labyrinth."

It was hard to concentrate on what she was saying, because everybody in the dining pavilion was stealing glances at us and whispering.

"You're not supposed to be here," I said.

"We need to talk," she insisted.

"But the rules..."

She knew as well as I did that campers weren't allowed to switch tables. Satyrs were different. They weren't really demigods. I could switch as well, I wasn't a demigod. But the half-bloods had to sit with their cabins. I wasn't even sure what the punishment was for switching tables. I'd never seen it happen. If Dionysus had been here, he probably would've strangled Annabeth with magical grapevines or something, but Dionysus wasn't here. Chiron had already left the pavilion. Quintus looked over and raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything.

"Look," Annabeth said, "Grover is in trouble. There's only one way we can figure to help him. It's the Labyrinth. That's what Clarisse and I have been investigating."

"You mean the maze where they kept the Minotaur, back in the old days?" Percy asked.

"Exactly," Annabeth said.

"So... it's not under the king's palace in Crete anymore," Percy guessed. "The Labyrinth is under some building in America."

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Under a building? Please, Percy. The Labyrinth is huge. It wouldn't fit under a single city, much less a single building."

"So... is the Labyrinth part of the Underworld?"

"No." Annabeth frowned. "Well, there may be passages from the Labyrinth down into the Underworld. I'm not sure. But the Underworld is way, way down. The Labyrinth is right under the surface of the mortal world, kind of like a second skin. It's been growing for thousands of years, lacing its way under Western cities, connecting everything together underground. You can get anywhere through the Labyrinth."

"If you don't get lost," Grover muttered. "And die a horrible death."

"Grover, there has to be a way," Annabeth said. I got the feeling they'd had this conversation before. "Clarisse lived."

"Barely!" Grover said. "And the other guy—"

"He was driven insane. He didn't die."

"Oh, joy." Grover's lower lip quivered. "That makes me feel much better."

"Whoa," Percy said. "Back up. What's this about Clarisse and a crazy guy?"

Annabeth glanced over toward the Ares table. Clarisse was watching us like she knew what we were talking about, but then she fixed her eyes on her breakfast plate.

"Last year," Annabeth said, lowering her voice, "Clarisse went on a mission for Chiron."

"I remember," Percy said. "It was secret."

Annabeth nodded.

"It was secret," Annabeth agreed, "because she found Chris Rodriguez."

"The guy from the Hermes cabin?"

I remembered him from two years ago. We'd eavesdropped on Chris Rodriguez aboard Luke's ship, the Princess Andromeda. Chris was one of the half-bloods who'd abandoned camp and joined the Titan Army.

"Yeah," Annabeth said. "Last summer he just appeared in Phoenix, Arizona, near Clarisse's mom's house."

"What do you mean he just appeared?"

"He was wandering around the desert, in a hundred and twenty degrees, in full Greek armor, babbling about string."

"String," Percy said.

"He'd been driven completely insane. Clarisse brought him back to her mom's house so the mortals wouldn't institutionalize him. She tried to nurse him back to health. Chiron came out and interviewed him, but it wasn't much good. The only thing they got out of him: Luke's men have been exploring the Labyrinth."

"Okay," Percy asked. "Why were they exploring the Labyrinth?"

"We weren't sure," Annabeth said. "That's why Clarisse went on a scouting expedition. Chiron kept things hushed up because he didn't want anyone panicking. He got me involved because... well, the Labyrinth has always been one of my favorite subjects. The architecture involved—" Her expression turned a little dreamy. "The builder, Daedalus, was a genius. But the point is, the Labyrinth has entrances everywhere. If Luke could figure out how to navigate it, he could move his army around with incredible speed."

"Except it's a maze, right?"

"Full of horrible traps," Grover agreed. "Dead ends. Illusions. Psychotic goat-killing monsters."

"But not if you had Ariadne's string," Annabeth said. "In the old days, Ariadne's string guided Theseus out of the maze. It was a navigation instrument of some kind, invented by Daedalus. And Chris Rodriguez was mumbling about string."

"So Luke is trying to find Ariadne's string," Percy said. "Why? What's he planning?"

Annabeth shook her head. "I don't know. I thought maybe he wanted to invade camp through the maze, but that doesn't make any sense. The closest entrances Clarisse found were in Manhattan, which wouldn't help Luke get past our borders. Clarisse explored a little way into the tunnels, but... it was very dangerous. She had some close calls. I researched everything I could find about Daedalus. I'm afraid it didn't help much. I don't understand exactly what Luke's planning, but I do know this: the Labyrinth might be the key to Grover's problem."

I blinked. "You think Pan is underground?"

"It would explain why he's been impossible to find."

Grover shuddered. "Satyrs hate going underground. No searcher would ever try going in that place. No flowers. No sunshine. No coffee shops!"

"But," Annabeth said, "the Labyrinth can lead you almost anywhere. It reads your thoughts. It was designed to fool you, trick you and kill you; but if you can make the Labyrinth work for you—"

"It could lead you to the wild god," I said.

"I can't do it." Grover hugged his stomach. "Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up my silverware."

"Grover, it may be your last chance," Annabeth said. "The council is serious. One week or you learn to tap dance!"

Over at the head table, Quintus cleared his throat. I got the feeling he didn't want to make a scene, but Annabeth was really pushing it, sitting at the table so long.

"We'll talk later," Annabeth squeezed my arm a little too hard. "Convince him, will you?"

She returned to the Athena table, ignoring all the people who were staring at her.

Grover buried his head in his hands. "I can't do it, guys. My searcher's license. Pan. I'm going to lose it all. I'll have to start a puppet theater."

"Don't say that! We'll figure something out." I said.

He looked at me teary-eyed. "Ariana, you're one of my best friends. You've seen me underground. In that Cyclops's cave. Do you really think I could..."

His voice faltered. I remembered the Sea of Monsters, when he'd been stuck in a Cyclops's cave. He'd never liked underground places to begin with, but now Grover really hated them. Cyclopes gave him the creeps, too.

"I have to leave," Grover said miserably. "Juniper's waiting for me. It's a good thing she finds cowards attractive."

After he was gone, I looked over at Quintus. He nodded gravely, like we were sharing some dark secret. Then he went back to cutting his sausage with a dagger.

I got up and nodded at Percy. I went back to my table.

* * *

That night after dinner, Quintus had us suit up in combat armor like we were getting ready for capture the flag, but the mood among the campers was a lot more serious. Sometime during the day the crates in the arena had disappeared, and I had a feeling whatever was in them had been emptied into the woods.

"Right," Quintus said, standing on the head dining table. "Gather 'round."

He was dressed in black leather and bronze. In the torchlight, his gray hair made him look like a ghost. Mrs. O'Leary bounded happily around him, foraging for dinner scraps.

"You will be in teams of two," Quintus announced. When everybody started talking and trying to grab their friends, he yelled: "Which have already been chosen!"

"AWWWWW!" everybody complained.

"Your goal is simple: collect the gold laurels without dying. The wreath is wrapped in a silk package, tied to the back of one of the monsters. There are six monsters. Each has a silk package. Only one holds the laurels. You must find the wreath before the other teams. And, of course... you will have to slay the monster to get it, and stay alive."

The crowd started murmuring excitedly. The task sounded pretty straightforward. I was excited because I was finally able to participate in something.

"I will now announce your partners," Quintus said. "There will be no trading. No switching. No complaining."

"Aroooof!" Mrs. O'Leary buried her face in a plate of pizza.

Quintus produced a big scroll and started reading off names. Beckendorf would be with Silena Beauregard, which Beckendorf looked pretty happy about. The Stoll brothers, Travis and Connor, would be together. No surprise. They did everything together. Clarisse was with Lee Fletcher from the Apollo cabin—melee and ranged combat combined, they would be a tough combo to beat. Annabeth was going to be with this guy named Nathan Schultz. Quintus kept rattling off the names until he said, "Percy Jackson with Ariana."

"Nice." Percy grinned at me.

"Your armor is crooked" was my only comment, and I redid his straps for him.

"Grover Underwood," Quintus said, "with Tyson."

Grover just about jumped out of his goat fur. "What? B-but—"

"No, no," Tyson whimpered. "Must be a mistake. Goat boy—"

"No complaining!" Quintus ordered. "Get with your partner. You have two minutes to prepare!"

Tyson and Grover both looked at Percy pleadingly. Percy tried to give them an encouraging nod, and gestured that they should move together. Tyson sneezed. Grover started chewing nervously on his wooden club.

"They'll be fine," I said. "Come on. Let's worry about how we're going to stay alive."

* * *

It was still light when we got into the woods, but the shadows from the trees made it feel like midnight. It was cold, too, even in summer. Percy and I found tracks almost immediately—scuttling marks made by something with a lot of legs. We began to follow the trail.

We jumped a creek and heard some twigs snapping nearby. We crouched behind a boulder, but it was only the Stoll brothers tripping through the woods and cursing. Their dad was the god of thieves, but they were about as stealthy as buffaloes.

Once the Stolls had passed, we forged deeper into the west woods where the monsters were wilder. We were standing on a ledge overlooking a marshy pond when I tensed. "This is where we stopped looking."

Last winter, when we'd given up hope of finding him, Grover, Percy, and I had stood on this rock, and Percy had convinced Annabeth, Grover, and I not to tell Chiron the truth: that Nico was a son of Hades.

"I saw him last night," I said.

Percy knit his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

I told him about the dream. When I was done, he stared into the shadows of the woods. "I had the same Iris-message."

"That's odd," I said. "I wonder who sent it to you."

"Yeah... but it probably doesn't matter."

"I think he's going to come after me or you," I said. "The spirit mentioned a maze."

Percy nodded. "That settles it. We have to figure out the Labyrinth."

"Maybe," I said uncomfortably. "But I—"

A branch snapped in the woods. Dry leaves rustled. Something large was moving in the trees, just beyond the ridge.

"That's not the Stoll brothers," Percy whispered.

Together we drew our swords.

* * *

We got to Zeus's Fist, a huge pile of boulders in the middle of the west woods. It was a natural landmark where campers often rendezvoused on hunting expeditions, but now there was nobody around.

"Over there," I whispered.

"No, wait," Percy said. "Behind us."

It was weird. Scuttling noises seemed to be coming from several different directions. We were circling the boulders, our swords drawn, when someone right behind us said, "Hi."

We whirled around, and the tree nymph Juniper yelped.

"Put those down!" she protested. "Dryads don't like sharp blades, okay?"

"Juniper," I exhaled. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here."

Percy lowered his sword. "In the boulders?"

She pointed toward the edge of the clearing. "In the juniper. Duh."

"Are you guys busy?" Juniper asked.

"Well," Percy said, "we're in the middle of this game against a bunch of monsters and we're trying not to die."

"We're not busy," I said. "What's wrong, Juniper?"

Junper sniffled. She wiped her silky sleeve under her eyes. "It's Grover. He seems so distraught. All year he's been out looking for Pan. And every time he comes back, its worse. I thought maybe, at first, he was seeing another tree."

"No," I said as Juniper started crying. "I'm sure that's not it."

"He had a crush on a blueberry bush once," Juniper said miserably.

"Juniper," I said, "Grover would never even look at another tree. He's just stressed out about his searcher's license."

"He can't go underground!" she protested. "You can't let him."

I felt uncomfortable. "It might be the only way to help him; if we just knew where to start."

"Ah." Juniper wiped a green tear off her cheek. "About that..."

Another rustle in the woods, and Juniper yelled, "Hide!"

Before I could ask why, she went poof into green mist.

Percy and I turned. Coming out of the woods was a glistening amber insect, ten feet long, with jagged pincers, an armored tail, and a stinger as long as a sword. A scorpion. Tied to its back was a red silk package.

"One of us gets behind it," I said, as the thing clattered toward us. "Cuts off its tail while the other distracts it in front."

"I'll take point," Percy said. "You've got invisibility."

I nodded. We'd fought together so many times we knew each other's moves. We could do this, easy. But it all went wrong when the other two scorpions appeared from the woods.

"Three?" I said. "That's not possible! The whole woods, and half the monsters come at us?"

One, we could take. Two, with a little luck. Three? Doubtful.

The scorpions scurried toward us, whipping their barbed tails like they'd come here just to kill us. Percy and I put our backs against the nearest boulder.

"Climb?" Percy said.

"No time," I said.

The scorpions were already surrounding us. They were so close I could see their hideous mouths foaming, anticipating an ice juicy meal.

"Look out!" I parried away a stinger with the flat of my blade. Percy stabbed with Riptide, but the scorpion backed out of range. We clambered sideways along the boulders, but the scorpions followed us. I slashed at another one, but going on the offensive was too dangerous. If I went for the body, the tail stabbed downward. If I went for the tail, the thing's pincers came from either side and tried to grab me. All we could do was defend, and we wouldn't be able to keep that up for very long.

Percy took another step sideways.

"In here," Percy said. He pointed at a crack between two of the largest boulders.

I sliced at a scorpion then looked at him. "In there? It's too narrow."

"I'll cover you. Go!"

I ducked behind him and started squeezing between the two boulders. I yelped and grabbed Percy's armor straps, and suddenly we were tumbling into a pit that hadn't been there a moment before. I could see the scorpions above us, the purple evening sky and the trees, and then the hole shut like the lens of a camera, and we were in complete darkness.

Our breathing echoed against stone. It was wet and cold. I was sitting on a bumpy floor that seemed to be made of bricks.

Percy lifted Riptide. The faint glow of the blade was just enough to illuminate Percy's face and the mossy stone walls on either side of us.

"Wh-where are we?" I said.

"Safe from the scorpions, anyway,"

Percy lifted my sword again for light.

"It's a long room," he muttered.

I gripped his arm. "It's not a room. It's a corridor."

The darkness felt... emptier in front of us. There was a warm breeze, like in subway tunnels, only it felt older, more dangerous somehow.

Percy started forward, but I stopped him. "Don't take another step," I warned. "We need to find the exit."

I was really scared.

"It's okay," Percy promised. "It's right—"

Percy looked up.

I slipped my hand into Percy's.

"Two steps back," I advised.

We stepped backward together like we were in a minefield.

"Okay," I said. "Help me examine the walls."

"What for?"

"The mark of Daedalus," I said. "Annabeth told me about it."

"Uh, okay. What kind of—"

"Got it!" I said with relief. I set my hand on the wall and pressed against a tiny fissure, which began to glow blue. A Greek symbol appeared: Δ, the Ancient Greek Delta.

The roof slid open and we saw night sky, stars blazing. It was a lot darker than it should've been. Metal ladder rungs appeared in the side of the wall, leading up, and I could hear people yelling our names.

"Percy! Ariana!" Tyson's voice bellowed the loudest, but others were calling out too.

I looked nervously at Percy. Then we began to climb.

* * *

We made our way around the rocks and ran into Clarisse and a bunch of other campers carrying torches.

"Where have you two been?" Clarisse demanded.

"We've been looking forever."

"But we were gone only a few minutes," Percy said.

Chiron trotted up, followed by Tyson, Grover, and Annabeth.

"Percy!" Tyson said. "You are okay?"

"We're fine," I said. "We fell in a hole."

The others looked at me skeptically, then at Percy.

"Honest!" I said. "There were three scorpions after us, so we ran and hid in the rocks. But we were only gone a minute."

"You've been missing for almost an hour," Chiron said. "The game is over."

"Yeah," Grover muttered. "We would've won, but a Cyclops sat on me."

"Was an accident!" Tyson protested, and then he sneezed.

Clarisse was wearing the gold laurels, but she didn't even brag about winning them, which wasn't like her. "A hole?" she said suspiciously.

I took a deep breath. I looked around at the other campers. "Chiron... maybe we should talk about this at the Big House."

Clarisse gasped. "You found it, didn't you?"

I bit my lip. "I—Yeah. Yeah, I think we did."

A bunch of campers started asking questions, but Chiron raised his hand for silence. "Tonight is not the right time, and this is not the right place." He stared at boulders as if he'd just noticed how dangerous they were. "All of you, back to your cabins. Get some sleep. A game well played, but curfew is past!"

There was a lot of mumbling and complaints, but the campers drifted off, talking among themselves and giving us suspicious looks.

"This explains a lot," Clarisse said. "It explains what Luke is after."

"Wait a second," Percy said. "What do you mean? What did we find?"

Annabeth turned toward him, her eyes dark with worry. "An entrance to the Labyrinth. An invasion route straight into the heart of the camp."


	54. 54

Chiron had insisted we talk about it in the morning. It was hard to fall asleep, but I finally did.

* * *  
I woke up the next morning when Chiron called a war council. We met in the sword arena, which I thought was pretty strange—trying to discuss the fate of the camp while Mrs. O'Leary chewed on a life-size squeaky pink rubber yak.

Chiron and Quintus stood at the front by the weapon racks. Clarisse, Annabeth, and I sat next to each other and led the briefing. Tyson and Grover sat as far away from each other as possible. Also present around the table: Juniper the tree nymph, Silena Beauregard, Travis and Connor Stoll, Beckendorf, Lee Fletcher, Percy, even Argus, our hundred-eyed security chief. That's how I knew it was serious. Argus hardly ever shows up unless something really major is going on. The whole time we spoke, he kept his hundred blue eyes trained on us so hard his whole body turned bloodshot.

"Luke must have known about the Labyrinth entrance," Annabeth said. "He knew everything about camp."

I thought I heard a little pride in her voice, like she still respected the guy, evil as he was.

Juniper cleared her throat. "That's what I was trying to tell you last night. The cave entrance has been there a long time. Luke used to use it."

Silena Beauregard frowned. "You knew about the Labyrinth entrance, and you didn't say anything?"

Juniper's face turned green. "I didn't know it was important. Just a cave. I don't like yucky old caves."

"She has good taste," Grover said.

"I wouldn't have paid any attention except...well, it was Luke." She blushed a little greener.

Grover huffed. "Forget what I said about good taste."

"Interesting," Quintus polished his sword as he spoke. "And you believe this young man, Luke, would dare use the Labyrinth as an invasion route?"

"Definitely," Clarisse said. "If he could get an army of monsters inside Camp Half-Blood, just pop up in the middle of the woods without having to worry about our magical boundaries, we wouldn't stand a chance. He could wipe us out easy. He must've been planning this for months."

"He's been sending scouts into the maze," Annabeth said. "We know because...because we found one."

"Chris Rodriguez," Chiron said. He gave Quintus a meaningful look.

"Ah," Quintus said. "The one in the... Yes, I understand."

"The one in the what?" Percy asked.

Clarisse glared at him. "The point is, Luke has been looking for a way to navigate the maze. He's searching for Daedalus's workshop."

"The guy who created the maze." Percy said.

"Yes," I said. "The greatest architect and the greatest inventor of all time. If the legends are true, his workshop is in the center of the Labyrinth. He's the only one who knew how to navigate the maze perfectly. If Luke managed to find the workshop and convince Daedalus to help him, Luke wouldn't have to fumble around searching for paths, or risk losing his army in the maze's traps. He could navigate anywhere he wanted—quickly and safely. First to Camp Half-Blood to wipe us out. Then... to Olympus."

The arena was silent except for Mrs. O'Leary's toy yak getting disemboweled: SQUEAK! SQUEAK!

Finally Beckendorf put his huge hands on the table. "Back up a sec, Ariana, you said 'convince Daedalus'? Isn't Daedalus dead?"

Quintus grunted. "I would hope so. He lived, what, three thousand years ago? And even if he were alive, don't the old stories say he fled from the Labyrinth?"

Chiron clopped restlessly on his hooves. "That's the problem, my dear Quintus. No one knows. There are rumors...well, there are many disturbing rumors about Daedalus, but one is that he disappeared back into the Labyrinth toward the end of his life. He might still be there."

"We need to go in," Annabeth announced. "We have to find the workshop before Luke does. If Daedalus is alive, we convince him to help us, not Luke. If Ariadne's string still exists, we make sure it never falls into Luke's hands."

"Wait a second," Percy said. "If we're worried about an attack, why not just blow up the entrance? Seal the tunnel?"

"Great idea!" Grover said. "I'll get the dynamite!"

"It's not so easy, stupid," Clarisse growled. "We tried that at the entrance we found in Phoenix. It didn't go well."

Annabeth nodded. "The Labyrinth is magical architecture, Percy. It would take huge power to seal even one of its entrances. In Phoenix, Clarisse demolished a whole building with a wrecking ball, and the maze entrance just shifted a few feet. The best we can do is prevent Luke from learning to navigate the Labyrinth."

"We could fight," Lee Fletcher said. "We know where the entrance is now. We can set up a defensive line and wait for them. If an army tries to come through, they'll find us waiting with our bows."

"We will certainly set up defenses," Chiron agreed. "But I fear Clarisse is right. The magical borders have kept this camp safe for hundreds of years. If Luke manages to get a large army of monsters into the center of camp, bypassing our boundaries... we may not have the strength to defeat them."

Nobody looked real happy about that news. Chiron usually tried to be upbeat and optimistic. If he was predicting we couldn't hold off an attack, that wasn't good.

"We have to get to Daedalus's workshop first," Annabeth insisted. "Find Ariadne's string and prevent Luke from using it."

"But if nobody can navigate in there," Percy said, "what chance do we have?"

"I've been studying architecture for years," she said. "I know Daedalus's Labyrinth better than anybody."

"From reading about it."

"Well, yes."

"That's not enough."

"It has to be!"

"It isn't!"

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Everyone, including me, was watching Annabeth and Percy like a tennis match. Mrs. O'Leary's squeaky yak went EEK! As she ripped off its pink rubber head.

Chiron cleared his throat. "First things first. We need a quest. Someone must enter the Labyrinth, find the workshop of Daedalus, and prevent Luke from using the maze to invade this camp."

"We all know who should lead this," Clarisse said. "Annabeth."

There was a murmur of agreement. I knew Annabeth had been waiting for her own quest since she was a little kid, but she looked uncomfortable.

"You've done as much as I have, Clarisse," she said. "You should go, too."

Clarisse shook her head. "I'm not going back in there."

Travis Stoll laughed. "Don't tell me you're scared. Clarisse, chicken?"

Clarisse got to her feet, I thought she was going to pulverize Travis, but she said in a shaky voice: "You don't understand anything, punk. I'm never going in there again. Never!"

She stormed out of the arena.

Travis looked around sheepishly. "I didn't mean to—"

Chiron raised his hand. "The poor girl has had a difficult year. Now, do we have agreement that Annabeth should lead the quest?"

We all nodded except Quintus. He folded his arms and stared at the table, but I wasn't sure anyone else noticed.

"Very well," Chiron turned to Annabeth. "My dear, it's your time to visit the Oracle. Assuming you return to us in one piece, we shall discuss what to do next."

* * *

Waiting for Annabeth was hard.

Percy and I paced the arena, waiting. Mrs. O'Leary ate her lunch, which consisted of a hundred pounds of ground beef and several dog biscuits the size of trash-can lids.

Chiron was deep in conversation with Quintus and Argus. It looked to me like they were disagreeing about something. Quintus kept shaking his head.

On the other side of the arena, Tyson and the Stoll brothers were racing miniature bronze chariots that Tyson had made out of armor scraps.

Percy gave up on pacing and left the arena.

* * *

"My dear," Chiron said. "You made it."

Annabeth looked at me first. I couldn't tell if she was trying to warn me, or if the look in her eyes was just plain fear. Then she focused on Quintus. "I got the prophecy. I will lead the quest to find Daedalus's workshop."

Nobody cheered. I mean, we all liked Annabeth, and we wanted her to have a quest, but this one seemed insanely dangerous. After what I'd seen of Chris Rodriguez, I didn't even want to think about Annabeth descending into that weird maze again.

Chiron scraped a hoof on the dirt floor. "What did the prophecy say exactly, my dear? The wording is important."

Annabeth took a deep breath. "I, ah... well, it said, you shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze..."

We waited.

"The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise."

Grover perked up. "The lost one! That must mean Pan! That's great!"

"With the dead and the traitor," Percy added. "Not so great."

"And?" Chiron asked. "What is the rest?"

"You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand," Annabeth said, "the child of Athena's final stand."

Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Annabeth was a daughter of Athena, and a final stand didn't sound good.

"Hey... we shouldn't jump to conclusions," Silena said. "Annabeth isn't the only child of Athena, right?"

"Yeah, I'm also her daughter..." I said.

"But who's this ghost king?" Beckendorf asked.

No one answered. I thought about the dream I'd seen of Nico summoning spirits. I had a bad feeling the prophecy was connected to that.

"Are there more lines?" Chiron asked. "The prophecy does not sound complete."

Annabeth hesitated. "I don't remember exactly."

Chiron raised an eyebrow. Annabeth was known for her memory. She never forgot something she heard.

Annabeth shifted on her bench. "Something about... Destroy with a hero's final breath."

"And?" Chiron asked.

She stood. "Look, the point is, I have to go in. I'll find the workshop and stop Luke. And... I need help." She turned to me. "Will you come?"

I didn't even hesitate. "I'm in."

She smiled for the first time in days. "Percy, you'll need to come along."

"Alright." Percy said.

"Grover, you too? The wild god is waiting."

Grover seemed to forget how much he hated the underground. The line about the "lost one" had completely energized him. "I'll pack extra recyclables for snacks!"

"And Tyson," Annabeth said. "I'll need you too."

"Yay! Blow-things-up time!" Tyson clapped so hard he woke up Mrs. O'Leary, who was dozing in the corner.

"Wait, Annabeth," Chiron said. "This goes against the ancient laws. A hero is allowed only two companions."

"I need them all," she insisted. "Chiron, it's important."

"Annabeth." Chiron flicked his tail nervously. "Consider well. You would be breaking the ancient laws, and there are always consequences. Last winter, five went on a quest to save Artemis. Only three came back. Think on that. Three is a sacred number. There are three fates, three furies, three Olympian sons of Kronos. It is a good strong number that stands against many dangers. Five... this is risky."

Annabeth took a deep breath. "I know. But we have to. Please."

I could tell Chiron didn't like it. Quintus was studying us, like he was trying to decide which of us would come back alive.

Chiron sighed. "Very well. Let us adjourn. The members of the quest must prepare themselves. Tomorrow at dawn, we send you into the Labyrinth."


	55. 55

At least I got a good night's sleep before the quest, right?

Wrong.

That night in my dreams, I was in a graveyard under a starry sky. Giant willow trees loomed all around Nico, who was no longer in the Underworld.

He was watching some gravediggers at work. I heard shovels and saw dirt flying out of a hole. Nico was dressed in a black cloak. The night was foggy. It was warm and humid, and frogs were croaking. A large Wal-Mart bag sat next to Nico's feet.

"Is it deep enough yet?" Nico asked. He sounded irritated.

"Nearly, my lord." It was the same ghost I'd seen Nico with before, the faint shimmering image of a man. "But, my lord, I tell you, this is unnecessary. You already have me for advice."

"I want a second opinion!" Nico snapped his fingers, and the digging stopped. Two figures climbed out of the hole. They weren't people. They were skeletons in ragged clothes.

"You are dismissed," Nico said. "Thank you."

The skeletons collapsed into piles of bones.

"You might as well thank the shovels," the ghost complained. "They have as much sense."

Nico ignored him. He reached into his Wal-Mart bag and pulled out a twelve-pack of Coke. He popped open a can. Instead of drinking it, he poured it into the grave.

"Let the dead taste again," he murmured. "Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember."

He dropped the rest of the Cokes into the grave and pulled out a white paper bag decorated with cartoons. I hadn't seen one in years, but I recognized it—a McDonald's Happy Meal.

He turned it upside down and shook the fries and hamburger into the grave.

"In my day, we used animal blood," the ghost mumbled. "It's perfectly good enough. They can't taste the difference."

"I will treat them with respect," Nico said.

"At least let me keep the toy," the ghost said.

"Be quiet!" Nico ordered. He emptied another twelve-pack of soda and three more Happy Meals into the grave, then began chanting in Ancient Greek. I caught only some of the words—a lot about the dead and memories and returning from the grave. Real happy stuff.

The grave started to bubble. Frothy brown liquid rose to the top like the whole thing was filling with soda. The fog thickened. The frogs stopped croaking. Dozens of figures began to appear among the gravestones: bluish, vaguely human shapes. Nico had summoned the dead with Coke and cheeseburgers.

"There are too many," the ghost said nervously. "You don't know your own powers."

"I've got it under control," Nico said, though his voice sounded fragile. He drew his sword—a short blade made of solid black metal. I'd never seen anything like it. It wasn't celestial bronze or steel. Iron, maybe? The crowd of shades retreated at the sight of it.

"One at a time," Nico commanded.

A single figure floated forward and knelt at the pool. It made slurping sounds as it drank. Its ghostly hands scooped French fries out of the pool.

When it stood again, I could see it much more clearly—a teenage guy in Greek armor. He had curly hair and green eyes, a clasp shaped like a seashell on his cloak.

"Who are you?" Nico said. "Speak."

The young man frowned as if trying to remember. Then he spoke in a voice like dry, crumpling paper: "I am Theseus."

"How can I retrieve my sister?" Nico asked.

Theseus's eyes were lifeless as glass. "Do not try. It is madness."

"Just tell me!"

"My stepfather died," Theseus remembered. "He threw himself into the sea because he thought I was dead in the Labyrinth. I wanted to bring him back, but I could not."

Nico's ghost hissed. "My lord, the soul exchange! Ask him about that!"

Theseus scowled. "That voice. I know that voice."

"No you don't, fool!" the ghost said. "Answer the lord's questions and nothing more!"

"I know you," Theseus insisted, as if struggling to recall.

"I want to hear about my sister," Nico said. "Will this quest into the Labyrinth help me win her back?"

Theseus was looking for the ghost, but apparently couldn't see him. Slowly he turned his eyes back on Nico. "The Labyrinth is treacherous. There is only one thing that saw me through: the love of a mortal girl. The string was only part of the answer. It was the princess who guided me."

"We don't need any of that," the ghost said. "I will guide you, my lord. Ask him if it is true about an exchange of souls. He will tell you."

"A soul for a soul," Nico asked. "Is it true?"

"I—I must say yes. But the specter—"

"Just answer the questions, knave!" the ghost said.

Suddenly, around the edges of the pool, the other ghosts became restless.

They stirred, whispering in nervous tones.

"I want to see my sister!" Nico demanded. "Where is she?"

"He is coming," Theseus said fearfully. "He has sensed your summons. He comes."

"Who?" Nico demanded.

"He comes to find the source of this power," Theseus said. "You must release us."

The image of Nico in the graveyard started to glow until it was painful to watch.

"Stop," I said out loud. "Stop it!"

I woke up in a sweat.

* * *

Just after dawn, the quest group met at Zeus's Fist. I'd packed my backpack—thermos with nectar, baggie of ambrosia, bedroll, rope, clothes, flashlights, and lots of extra batteries. I had Kairos in my pocket.

It was a clear morning. The fog had burned off and the sky was blue. Campers would be having their lessons today, flying pegasi and practicing archery and scaling the lava wall. Meanwhile, we could be heading underground.

Juniper and Grover stood apart from the group. Juniper had been crying again, but she was trying to keep it together for Grover's sake. She kept fussing with his clothes, straightening his rasta cap and brushing goat fur off his shirt. Since we had no idea what we would encounter, he was dressed as a human, with the cap to hide his horns, and jeans, fake feet, and sneakers to hide his goat legs.

Chiron, Quintus, and Mrs. O'Leary stood with the other campers who'd come to wish us well, but there was too much activity for it to feel like a happy send-off. A couple of tents had been set up by the rocks for guard duty. Beckendorf and his siblings were working on a line of defensive spikes and trenches. Chiron had decided we needed to guard the Labyrinth exit at all times, just in case.

Annabeth was doing one last check on her supply pack. I was making sure I had the weapons I would probably need. Tyson and Percy came over and Annabeth frowned. "Percy, you look terrible."

"She said the same thing to me," I said to Percy.

"He had a bad dream last night," Tyson confided.

"What?" Annabeth asked.

Before Percy could explain, Chiron trotted over. "Well, it appears you are ready!"

He tried to sound upbeat, but I could tell he was anxious. Percy said, "Hey, uh, Chiron, can I ask you a favor while I'm gone?"

"Of course, my boy."

"Be right back, guys." Percy nodded toward the woods. Chiron raised an eyebrow, but he followed Percy out of earshot.

They were gone for a while before I decided to go check on them. I trudged over, "Percy, you ready?"

He nodded.

"Take care," Chiron told us. "And good hunting."

"You too," I said.

We walked over to the rocks, where Tyson, Annabeth, and Grover were waiting. I stared at the crack between the boulders—the entrance that was about to swallow us.

"Well," Grover said nervously, "good-bye sunshine."

"Hello rocks," Tyson agreed. And together, the five of us descended into darkness.


	56. 56

We made it a hundred feet before we were hopelessly lost.

The tunnel looked nothing like the one Percy and I had stumbled into before. Now it was round like a sewer, constructed of red brick with iron-barred portholes ever ten feet. Percy shined a light through one of the portholes out of curiosity, but I couldn't see anything. It opened into infinite darkness. I thought I heard voices on the other side, but it may have been just the cold wind.

Annabeth tried her best to guide us. She had this idea that we should stick to the left wall.

"If we keep one hand on the left wall and follow it," she said, "we should be able to find our way out again by reversing course."

Unfortunately, as soon as she said that, the left wall disappeared. We found ourselves in the middle of a circular chamber with eight tunnels leading out, and no idea how we'd gotten there.

"Um, which way did we come in?" Grover said nervously.

"Just turn around," Annabeth said.

We each turned toward a different tunnel. It was ridiculous. None of us could decide which way led back to camp.

"Left walls are mean," Tyson said. "Which way now?"

Annabeth swept her flashlight beam over the archways of the eight tunnels. As far as I could tell, they were identical. "That way," she said.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Deductive reasoning."

"So... you're guessing."

"Just come on," she said.

The tunnel she'd chosen narrowed quickly. The walls turned to gray cement, and the ceiling got so low that pretty soon we were hunching over. Tyson was forced to crawl.

Grover's hyperventilating was the loudest noise in the maze. "I can't stand it anymore," he whispered. "Are we there yet?"

"We've been down here maybe five minutes," Annabeth told him.

"It's been longer than that," Grover insisted. "And why would Pan be down here? This is the opposite of the wild!"

We kept shuffling forward. Just when I was sure the tunnel would get so narrow it would squish us, it opened into a huge room. Percy shined his light around the walls and said, "Whoa."

The whole room was covered in mosaic tiles. The pictures were grimy and faded, but I could still make out the colors—red, blue, green, gold. The frieze showed the Olympian gods at a feast. There was Poseidon with his trident, holding out grapes for Dionysus to turn into wine. Zeus was partying with satyrs, and Hermes was flying through the air on his winged sandals. The pictures were beautiful, but they weren't very accurate. I'd seen the gods. Dionysus was not that handsome, and Hermes's nose wasn't that big.

In the middle of the room was a three-tiered fountain. It looked like it hadn't held water in a long time.

"What is this place?" Percy muttered. "It looks—"

"Roman," Annabeth said. "Those mosaics are about two thousand years old."

"But how can they be Roman?"

"The Labyrinth is a patchwork," Annabeth said. "I told you, it's always expanding, adding pieces. It's the only work of architecture that grows by itself."

"You make it sound like it's alive."

A groaning noise echoed from the tunnel in front of us.

"Let's not talk about it being alive," Grover whimpered. "Please?"

"All right," Annabeth said. "Forward."

"Down the hall with the bad sounds?" Tyson said. Even he looked nervous.

"Yeah," Annabeth said. "The architecture is getting older. That's a good sign. Daedalus's workshop would be in the oldest part."

That made sense. But soon the maze was toying with us—we went fifty feet and the tunnel turned back to cement, with brass pipes running down the sides. The walls were spray-painted with graffiti. A neon tagger sign read MOZ RULZ.

"I'm thinking this is not Roman," I said.

Annabeth took a deep breath, then forged ahead.

Every few feet the tunnels twisted and turned and branched off. The floor beneath us changed from cement to mud to bricks and back again. There was no sense to any of it. We stumbled into a wince cellar—a bunch of dusty bottles in wooden racks—like we were walking through somebody's basement, only there was no exit above us, just more tunnels leading on.

Later the ceiling turned to wooden planks, and I could hear voices above us and the creaking of footsteps, as if we were walking under some kind of bar. It was reassuring to hear people, but then again, we couldn't get to them. We were stuck down here with no way out. Then we found our first skeleton.

He was dressed in white clothes, like some kind of uniform. A wooden crate of glass bottles sat next to him.

"A milkman," Annabeth said.

"What?" Percy asked.

"They used to deliver milk."

"Yeah, I know what they are, but... that was when my mom was little, like a million years ago. What's he doing here?"

"Some people wander in by mistake," Annabeth said. "Some come exploring on purpose and never make it back. A long time ago, the Cretans sent people in here as human sacrifices."

Grover gulped. "He's been down here a long time." He pointed to the skeleton's bottles, which were coated with white dust. The skeleton's fingers were clawing at the brick wall, like he had died trying to get out.

"Only bones," Tyson said. "Don't worry, goat boy. The milkman is dead."

"The milkman doesn't bother me," Grover said. "It's the smell. Monsters. Can't you smell it?"

Tyson nodded. "Lots of monsters. But underground smells like that. Monsters and dead milk people."

"Oh, good," Grover whimpered. "I thought maybe I was wrong."

"We have to get deeper into the maze," Annabeth said. "There has to be a way to the center."

She led us to the right, then the left, through a corridor of stainless steel like some kind of air shaft, and we arrived back in the Roman tile room with the fountain.

This time, we weren't alone.

* * *

What I noticed first were his faces. Both of them. They jutted out from either side of his head, staring over his shoulders, so his head was much wider than it should've been, kind of like a hammerhead shark's looking straight at him, all I saw were two overlapping ears and mirror-image sideburns.

He was dressed like a New York City doorman: a long black overcoat, shiny shoes, and a black top-hat that somehow managed to stay on his double-wide head.

"Well, Annabeth?" said his left face. "Hurry up!"

"Don't mind him," said the right face. "He's terribly rude. Right this way, miss."

Annabeth's jaw dropped. "Uh... I don't..."

Tyson frowned. "That funny man has two faces."

"The funny man has ears, you know!" the left face scolded. "Now come along, miss."

"No, no," the right face said. "This way, miss. Talk to me, please."

The two-faced man regarded Annabeth as best he could out of the corners of his eyes. It was impossible to look at him straight on without focusing on one side or the other. And suddenly I realized that's what he was asking—he wanted Annabeth to choose.

Behind him were two exits, blocked by wooden doors with huge iron locks. They hadn't been there our first time through the room. The two-faced doorman held a silver key, which he kept passing from his left hand to his right hand. I wondered if this was a different room completely, but the frieze of the gods looked exactly the same.

Behind us, the doorway we'd come through had disappeared, replaced by more mosaics. We wouldn't be going back the way we came.

"The exits are closed," Annabeth said.

"Duh!" the man's left face said.

"Where do they lead?" she asked.

"One probably leads the way you wish to go," the right face said encouragingly. "The other leads to certain death."

"I—I know who you are," Annabeth said.

"Oh, you're a smart one!" The left face sneered. "But do you know which way to choose? I don't have all day."

"Why are you trying to confuse me?" Annabeth asked.

The right face smiled. "You're in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I—"

"We know you, Annabeth," the left face said. "We know what you wrestle with every day. We know your indecision."

The color drained out of Annabeth's face. "No... I don't—"

"Leave her alone," Percy said. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm your best friend," the right face said.

"I'm your worst enemy," the left face said.

"I'm Janus," both faces said in harmony. "God of Doorways. Beginnings. Endings. Choices."

"I'll see you soon enough, Perseus Jackson," said the right face. "But for now it's Annabeth's turn." He laughed giddily. "Such fun!"

"Shut up!" his left face said. "This is serious. One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends. But no pressure, Annabeth. Choose!"

With a sudden chill, I remembered the words of the prophecy: the child of Athena's final stand.

"Don't do it," I said.

"I'm afraid she has to," the right face said cheerfully.

Annabeth moistened her lips. "I—I chose—"

Before she could point to a door, a brilliant light flooded the room.

Janus raised his hands to either side of his head to cover his eyes. When the light died, Hera was standing at the fountain.

She was tall and graceful with long hair the color of chocolate, braided in plaits with gold ribbons. She wore a simple white dress, but when she moved, the fabric shimmered with colors like oil on water.

"Janus," she said, "are we causing trouble again?"

"N-no, milady!" Janus's right face stammered.

"Yes!" the left face said.

"Shut up!" the right face said.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked.

"Not you, milady! I was talking to myself."

"I see," Hera said. "You know very well your visit is premature. The girl's time has not yet come. So I give you a choice: leave these heroes to me, or I shall turn you into a door and break you down."

"What kind of door?" the left face asked.

"Shut up!" the right face said.

"Because French doors are nice," the left face mused. "Lots of natural light."

"Shut up!" the right face wailed. "Not you, milady! Of course I'll leave. I was just having a bit of fun. Doing my job. Offering choices."

"Causing indecision," Hera corrected. "Now be gone!"

The left face muttered, "Party pooper," then he raised his silver key, inserted it into the air, and disappeared.

Hera turned toward us.

"You must be hungry," she said. "Sit with me and talk."

She waved her hand, and the old Roman fountain began to flow. Jets of clear water sprayed into the air. A marble table appeared, laden with platters of sandwiches and pitchers of lemonade.

"Who... who are you?" Percy asked.

"I am Hera." The woman smiled. "Queen of Heaven."

* * *  
Hera served us sandwiches and poured lemonade.

"Grover, dear," she said, "use your napkin. Don't eat it."

"Yes, ma'am," Grover said.

"Tyson, you're wasting away. Would you like another peanut butter sandwich?"

Tyson stifled a belch. "Yes, nice lady."

"Queen Hera," Annabeth said. "I can't believe it. What are you doing in the Labyrinth?"

Hera smiled. She flicked one finger and Annabeth's hair combed itself. All the dirt and grime disappeared from her face.

"I came to see you, naturally," the goddess said. "I also really wanted to see Ariana."

She did the same thing that she did with Annabeth to me, I could feel the dirt off of my face and my hair falling into it's curls.

 

Usually when the gods come looking for you, it's not out of the goodness of their hearts. It's because they want something.

Still, that didn't keep me from chowing down on the chips and lemonade. Tyson was inhaling one peanut butter sandwich after another, and Grover was loving the lemonade, crunching the Styrofoam cup like an ice-cream cone.

"I didn't think—" Annabeth faltered. "Well, I didn't think you liked heroes."

Hera smiled indulgently. "Because of that little spat I had with Hercules? Honestly, I got so much bad press because of one disagreement."

"Didn't you try to kill him, like, a lot of times?" Annabeth asked.

Hera waved her hand dismissively. "Water under the bridge, my dear. Besides, he was one of my loving husband's children by another woman. My patience wore thin, I'll admit it. But Zeus and I have had some excellent marriage counseling sessions since then. We've aired our feelings and come to an understanding—especially after that last little incident."

"You mean when he sired Thalia?" Percy guessed. As soon as he said the name of our friend, the half-blood daughter of Zeus, Hera's eyes turned toward him frostily.

"Percy Jackson, isn't it? One of Poseidon's... children." I got the feeling she was thinking of another word besides children. "As I recall, I voted to let you live at the winter solstice. I hope I voted correctly."

She turned back to Annabeth with a sunny smile. "At any rate, I certainly bear you no ill will, my girl. I appreciate the difficulty of your quest. Especially when you have troublemakers like Janus to deal with."

Annabeth lowered her gaze. "Why was he here? He was driving me crazy."

"Trying to," Hera agreed. "You must understand, the minor gods like Janus have always been frustrated by the small parts they play in the universe. Some, I fear, have little love for Olympus, and could easily be swayed to support the rise of my father."

"Your father?" Percy said. "Oh, right."

"We must watch the minor gods," Hera said. "Janus. Hecate. Morpheus. They give lip service to Olympus, and yet—"

"That's where Dionysus went," I remembered. "He was checking on the minor gods."

"Indeed." Hera stared at the fading mosaics of the Olympians. "You see, in times of trouble, even gods can lose faith. They start putting their trust in the wrong things. They stop looking at the big picture and start being selfish. But I'm the goddess of marriage, you see. I'm used to perseverance. You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind."

"What are your goals?" Annabeth asked.

She smiled. "To keep my family, the Olympians, together, of course. At the moment, the best way I can do that is by helping you. Zeus does not allow me to interfere much, I am afraid. But once every century or so, for a quest I care deeply about, he allows me to grant a wish."

"A wish?"

"Before you ask it, let me give you some advice, which I can do for free. I know you see Daedalus. His Labyrinth is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. But if you want to know his fate, I would visit my son Hephaestus at his forge. Daedalus was a great inventor, a mortal after Hephaestus's heart. There has never been a mortal Hephaestus admired more. If anyone would have kept up with Daedalus and could tell you his fate, it is Hephaestus."

"But how do we get there?" Annabeth asked. "That's my wish. I want a way to navigate the Labyrinth."

Hera looked disappointed. "So be it. You wish for something, however, that you have already been given."

"I don't understand."

"The means is already within your grasp." She looked at Percy. "Percy knows the answer."

"I do?" Percy asked.

"But that's not fair," Annabeth said. "You're not telling me what it is!"

Hera shook her head. "Getting something and having the wits to use it... those are two different things. I'm sure your mother Athena would agree."

The room rumbled like distant thunder. Hera stood. "That would be my cue. Zeus grows impatient. Think on what I have said, Annabeth. Seek out Hephaestus. You will have to pass through the ranch, I imagine. But keep going. And use all the means at your disposal, however common they may seem."

She pointed toward the two doors and they melted away, revealing twin corridors, open and dark. "One last thing, Annabeth. I have postponed your day of choice, I have not prevented it. Soon, as Janus said, you will have to make a decision. Farewell!"

She waved a hand and turned into white smoke. So did the food, just as Tyson chomped down on a sandwich that turned to mist in his mouth. The fountain trickled to a stop. The mosaic walls dimmed and turned grungy and faded again. The room was no longer any place you'd want to have a picnic.

Annabeth stamped her foot. "What sort of help was that? 'Here, have a sandwich. Make a wish. Oops, I can't help you!' Poof!"

"Poof," Tyson agreed sadly, looking at his empty plate.

"Well," Grover sighed, "she said Percy knows the answer. That's something."

We all looked at Percy.

"But I don't," Percy said. "I don't know what she was talking about."

I sighed. "All right. Then we'll just keep going."

"Which way?" Percy asked. I really wanted to ask what Hera had meant— about the choice Annabeth needed to make. But then Grove and Tyson both tensed. They stood up together like they'd rehearsed it. "Left," they both said.

Annabeth frowned. "How can you be sure?"

"Because something is coming from the right," Grover said.

"Something big," Tyson agreed. "In a hurry."

"Left is sounding pretty good," Percy decided. Together we plunged into the dark corridor.


	57. 57

The good news: the left tunnel was straight with no side exits, twists, or turns. The bad news; it was a dead end. After sprinting a hundred yards, we ran into an enormous boulder that completely blocked our path. Behind us, the sounds of dragging footsteps and heavy breathing echoed down the corridor. Something—definitely not human—was on our tail.

"Tyson," I said, "can you—"

"Yes!" He slammed his shoulder against the rock so hard the whole tunnel shook. Dust trickled from the stone ceiling.

"Hurry!" Grover said. "Don't bring the roof down, but hurry!"

The boulder finally gave way with a horrible grinding noise. Tyson pushed it into a small room and we dashed through behind it.

"Close the entrance!" Annabeth said.

We all got on the other side of the boulder and pushed. Whatever was chasing us wailed in frustration as we heaved the rock back into placed and sealed the corridor.

"We trapped it," Percy said.

"Or trapped ourselves," Grover said.

I turned. We were in a twenty-foot-square cement room and the opposite wall was covered with metal bars. We'd tunneled straight into a cell.

"What in Hades?" Annabeth tugged on the bars. They didn't budge. Through the bars we could see rows of cells in a ring around a dark courtyard—at least three stories of metal doors and metal catwalks.

"A prison," I said. "Maybe Tyson can break—"

"Shh," said Grover. "Listen."

Somewhere above us, deep sobbing echoed through the building. There was another sound, too—a raspy voice muttering something that I couldn't make out. The words were strange, like rocks in a tumbler.

"What's that language?" Percy whispered.

Tyson's eye widened. "Can't be."

"What?" I asked.

He grabbed two bars on our cell door and bent them wide enough for even a Cyclops to slip through.

"Wait!" Grover called.

But Tyson wasn't about to wait. We ran after him. The prison was dark, only a few dim fluorescent lights flickering above.

"I know this place," Annabeth told me. "This is Alcatraz."

"You mean that island is near San Francisco?" Percy asked.

She nodded. "My school took a field trip here. It's like a museum."

"Freeze," Grover warned.

But Tyson kept going. Grover grabbed his arm and pulled him back with all his strength. "Stop, Tyson!" he whispered. "Can't you see it?"

I looked where he was pointing, and my stomach did a somersault. On the second-floor balcony, across the courtyard, was a monster more horrible than anything I'd ever seen before.

It was sort of like a centaur, with a woman's body from the waist up. But instead of a horse's lower body, it had the body of a dragon—at least twenty feet long, black and scaly with enormous claws and a barbed tail. Her legs looked like they were tangled in vines, but then I realized they were sprouting snakes, hundreds of vipers darting around, constantly looking for something to bite. The woman's hair was also made of snakes, like Medusa's. Weirdest of all, around her waist, where the woman part met the dragon part, her skin bubbled and morphed, occasionally producing the heads of animals—a vicious wolf, a bear, a lion, as if she were wearing a belt of ever-changing creatures. I got the feeling I was looking at something half formed, a monster so old it was from the beginning of time, before shapes had been fully defined.

"It's her," Tyson whimpered.

"Get down!" Grover said.

We crouched in the shadows, but the monster wasn't paying us any attention. It seemed to be talking to someone inside a cell on the second floor. That's where the sobbing was coming from. The dragon woman said something in her weird rumbling language.

"What's she saying?" Percy muttered. "What's that language?"

"The tongue of the old times." Tyson shivered. "What Mother Earth spoke to Titans and... her other children. Before the gods."

"You understand it?" I asked. "Can you translate?"

Tyson closed his eyes and began to speak in a horrible, raspy woman's voice. "You will work for the master or suffer."

Annabeth shuddered. "I hate it when he does that."

Like all Cyclopes, Tyson had superhuman hearing and an uncanny ability to mimic voices. It was almost like he entered a trance when he spoke in other voices.

"I will not serve," Tyson said in a deep, wounded voice.

He switched to the monster's voice: "Then I shall enjoy your pain, Briares." Tyson faltered when he said that name. I'd never heard him break character when he was mimicking somebody, but he let out a strangled gulp. Then he continued in the monster's voice. "If you thought your first imprisonment was unbearable, you have yet to feel true torment. Think on this until I return."

The dragon lady tromped toward the stairwell, vipers hissing around her legs like grass skirts. She spread wings that I hadn't noticed before—huge bad wings she kept folded against her dragon back. She leaped off the catwalk and soared across the courtyard. We crouched lower in the shadows. A hot sulfurous wind blasted my face as the monster flew over. Then she disappeared around the corner.

"H-h-horrible," Grover said. "I've never smelled any monster that strong."

"Cyclopes' worst nightmare," Tyson murmured. "Kampê."

"Who?" Percy asked.

Tyson swallowed. "Every Cyclops knows about her. Stories about her scare us when we're babies. She was our jailer in the bad years."

Annabeth nodded. "I remember now. When the Titans ruled, they imprisoned Gaea and Ouranos's earlier children—the Cyclopes and the Hekatonkheires."

"The Heka-what?" Percy asked.

"The Hundred-Handed Ones," she said. "They called them that because... well, they had a hundred hands. They were elder brothers of the Cyclopes."

"Very powerful," Tyson said. "Wonderful! As tall as the sky. So strong they could break mountains!"

"Cool," Percy said. "Unless you're a mountain."

"Kampê was the jailer," he said. "She worked for Kronos. She kept our brothers locked up in Tartarus, tortured them always, until Zeus came. He killed Kampê and freed Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones to help fight against the Titans in the big war."

"And now Kampê is back," Percy said.

"Bad," Tyson summed up.

"So who's in that cell?" Percy asked. "You said a name—"

"Briares!" Tyson perked up. "He is a Hundred-Handed One. They are as tall as the sky and—"

"Yeah," Percy said. "They break mountains."

I looked up at the cells above us, wondering how something as tall as the sky could fit in a tiny cell, and why he was crying.

"I guess we should check it out," Annabeth said, "before Kampê comes back."

As we approached the cell, the weeping got louder. When I first saw the creature inside, I wasn't sure what I was looking at. He was human-size and his skin was very pale, the color of milk. He wore a loincloth like a big diaper. His feet seemed too big for his body, with cracked dirty toenails, eight toes on each foot. But the top half of his body was the weird part. He made Janus look downright normal. His chest sprouted more arms than I could count, in rows, all around his body. The arms looked like normal arms, but there were so many of them, all tangled together, that his chest looked kind of like a forkful of spaghetti somebody had twirled together. Several of his hands were covering his face as he sobbed.

"Either the sky isn't as tall as it used to be," Percy muttered, "or he's short."

Tyson didn't pay any attention. He fell to his knees.

"Briares!" he called.

The sobbing stopped.

"Great Hundred-Handed One!" Tyson said. "Help us!"

Briars looked up. His face was long and sad, with a crooked nose and bad teeth. He had deep brown eyes—I mean completely brown with no whites or black pupils, like eyes formed out of clay.

"Run while you can, Cyclops," Briares said miserably. "I cannot even help myself."

"You are a Hundred-Handed One!" Tyson insisted. "You can do anything!"

Briars wiped his nose with five or six hands. Several others were fidgeting with little pieces of metal and wood from a broken bed, the way Tyson always played with spare parts. It was amazing to watch. The hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They built a toy boat out of wood, then disassembled it just as fast. Other hands were scratching at the cement floor for no apparent reason. Others were playing rock, paper, scissors. A few others were making ducky and doggie shadow puppets against the wall.

"I cannot," Briares moaned. "Kampê is back! The Titans will rise and throw us back into Tartarus."

"Put on your brave face!" Tyson said.

Immediately Briares's face morphed into something else. Same brown eyes, but otherwise totally different features. He had an upturned nose, arched eyebrows, and a weird smile, like he was trying to act brave. But then his face turned back to what it had been before.

"No good," he said. "My scared face keeps coming back."

"How did you do that?" Percy asked.

I elbowed him. "Don't be rude. The Hundred-Handed Ones all have fifty different faces."

"Must make it hard to get a yearbook picture," Percy said.

Tyson was still entranced. "It will be okay, Briares! We will help you! Can I have your autograph?"

Briares sniffled. "Do you have one hundred pens?"

"Guys," Grover interrupted. "We have to get out of here. Kampê will be back. She'll sense us sooner or later."

"Break the bars," Annabeth said.

"Yes!" Tyson said, smiling proudly. "Briares can do it. He is very strong. Stronger than Cyclopes, even! Watch!"

Briares whimpered. A dozen of his hands started playing patty-cake, but none of them made any attempt to break the bars.

"If he's so strong," Percy said, "why is he stuck in jail?"

I ribbed him again. "He's terrified," I whispered. "Kampê had imprisoned him in Tartarus for thousands of years. How would you feel?"

The Hundred-Handed One covered his face again.

"Briares?" Tyson asked. "What... what is wrong? Show us your great strength!"

"Tyson," I said, "I think you'd better break the bars."

Tyson's smile melted slowly.

"I will break the bars," he repeated. He grabbed the cell door and ripped it off its hinges like it was made of wet clay.

"Come on, Briares," I said. "Let's get you out of here."

I held out my hand. For a second, Briares's face morphed to a hopeful expression. Several of his arms reached out, but twice as many slapped them away.

"I cannot," he said. "She will punish me."

"It's all right," I promised. "You fought the Titans before, and you won, remember?"

"I remember the war." Briares's face morphed again—furrowed brow and a pouting mouth. His brooding face, I guess. "Lightning shook the world. We threw many rocks. The Titans and the monsters almost won. Now they are getting strong again. Kampê said so."

"Don't listen to her," Percy said. "Come on!"

He didn't move. We didn't have much time before Kampê returned. But we couldn't just leave him here. Tyson would cry for weeks.

"One game of rock, paper, scissors," Percy blurted out. "If I win, you come with us. If I lose, we'll leave you in jail."

Annabeth looked at him like he was crazy.

Briares's face morphed to doubtful. "I always win rock, paper, scissors."

"Then let's do it!" Percy pounded his fist in his palm three times.

Briares did the same with all one hundred hands, which sounded like an army marching three steps forward. He came up with a whole avalanche of rocks, a classroom set of scissors, and enough paper to make a fleet of airplanes.

"I told you," he said sadly. "I always—" His face morphed to confusion. "What is that you made?"

"A gun," Percy told him, showing him his finger gun. "A gun beats anything."

"That's not fair."

"I didn't say anything about fair. Kampê's not going to be fair if we hang around. She's going to blame you for ripping off the bars. Now come on!"

Briares sniffled. "Demigods are cheaters." But he slowly rose to his feet and followed us out of the cell.

I started to feel hopeful. All we had to do was get downstairs and find the Labyrinth entrance. But then Tyson froze.

On the ground floor right below, Kampê was snarling at us.

* * *  
"The other way," I said.

We bolted down the catwalk. This time Briares was happy to follow us. In fact he sprinted out front, a hundred arms waving in panic.

Behind us, I heard the sound of giant wings as Kampê took to the air. She hissed and growled in her ancient language, but I didn't need a translation to know she was planning to kill us.

We scrambled down the stairs, through a corridor, and past a guard's station—out into another block of prison cells.

"Left," Annabeth said. "I remember this from the tour."

We burst outside and found ourselves in the prison yard, ringed by security towers and barbed wire. After being inside for so long, the daylight almost blinded me. Tourists were milling around, taking pictures. The wind whipped cold off the bay. In the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful, but in the north, over Mount Tamalpais, huge storm clouds swirled. The whole sky seemed like a black top spinning from the mountain where Atlas was imprisoned, and where the Titan palace of Mount Othrys was rising anew. It was hard to believe the tourists couldn't see the supernatural storm brewing, but they didn't give any hint that anything was wrong.

"It's even worse," Annabeth said, gazing to the north."The storms have been bad all year, but that—"

"Keep moving," Briares wailed. "She is behind us!"

We ran to the far end of the yard, as far from the cellblock as possible.

"Kampê's too big to get through the doors," Percy said hopefully.

Then the wall exploded.

Tourists screamed as Kampê appeared from the dust and rubble, her wings spread out as wide as the yard. She was holding two swords—long bronze scimitars that glowed with a weird greenish aura, boiling wisps of vapor that smelled sour and hot even across the yard.

"Poison!" Grover yelped. "Don't let those things touch you or..."

"Or we'll die?" Percy guessed.

"Well... after you shrivel slowly to dust, yes."

"Let's avoid the swords," Percy decided.

"Briares, fight!" Tyson urged. "Grow to full size!"

Instead, Briares looked like he was trying to shrink even smaller. He appeared to be wearing his absolutely terrified face.

Kampê thundered toward us on her dragon legs, hundreds of snakes slithering around her body.

Annabeth said what I was thinking: "Run."

That was the end of the debate. There was no fighting this thing. We ran through the jail yard and out the gates of the prison, the monster right behind us. Mortals screamed and ran. Emergency sirens began to blare.

We hit the wharf just as a tour boat was unloading. The new group of visitors froze as they saw us charging toward them, followed by a mob of frightened tourists, followed by... I don't know what they saw through the Mist, but it could not have been good.

"The boat?" Grover asked.

"Too slow," Tyson said. "Back into the maze. Only chance."

"We need a diversion," Annabeth said.

Tyson ripped a metal lamppost out of the ground. "I will distract Kampê. You run ahead."

"I'll help you," I said.

"No," Tyson said. "You go. Poison will hurt Cyclopes. A lot of pain. But it won't kill."

"Are you sure? It can't kill me either."

"Go. I will meet you inside."

I hated the idea. Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and I each took one of Briares's hands and dragged him toward the concession stands while Tyson bellowed, lowered his pole, and charged Kampê like a jousting knight.

She'd been glaring at Briares, but Tyson got her attention as soon as he nailed her in the chest with the pole, pushing her back into the wall. She shrieked and slashed with her swords, slicing the pole to shreds. poison dripped in pools all around her, sizzling into the cement.

Tyson jumped back as Kampê's hair lashed and hissed, and the vipers around her legs darted their tongues in every direction. A lion popped out of the weird half-formed faces around her waist and roared.

As we sprinted for the cellblocks, the last thing I saw was Tyson picking up a Dippin' Dots stand and throwing it at Kampê. Ice cream and poison exploded everywhere, all the little snakes in Kampê's hair dotted with tuttifrutti. We dashed back into the jail yard.

"Can't make it," Briares huffed.

"Tyson is risking his life to help you!" I yelled at him. "You will make it."

As we reached the door of the cellblock, I heard an angry roar. I glanced back and saw Tyson running toward us at full speed, Kampê right behind him. She was plastered in ice cream and T-shirts. One of the bear heads on her waist was now wearing a pair of crooked plastic Alcatraz sunglasses.

"Hurry!" Annabeth said.

We finally found the cell where we'd come in, but the back wall was completely smooth—no sign of a boulder or anything.

"Look for the mark!" Annabeth said.

"There!" Grover touched a tiny scratch, and it became a Greek ∆. The mark of Daedalus glowed blue, and the stone wall grinded open.

Too slow. Tyson was coming through the cellblock, Kampê's swords lashing out behind him, slicing indiscriminately through cell bars and stone walls.

I pushed Briares inside the maze, then Annabeth and Grover. Percy stood beside me.

"You can do it!" Percy told Tyson. I knew he couldn't. Kampê was gaining. She raised her swords. We needed a distraction—something big. Percy slapped his wristwatch and it spiraled into a bronze shield. He threw it at the monster's face.

SMACK! The shield hit her in the face and she faltered just long enough for Tyson to dive past us into the maze. We were right behind him.

Kampê charged, but she was too late. The stone door closed and its magic sealed us in. I could feel the whole tunnel shake as Kampê pounded against it, roaring furiously. We didn't stick around to play knock, knock with her, though. We raced into the darkness, and for the first time (and the last) I was glad to be back in the Labyrinth.


	58. 58

We finally stopped in a room full of waterfalls. The floor was one big pit, ringed by a slippery stone walkway. Around us, on all four walls, water tumbled from huge pipes. The water spilled down into the pit, and even when I shined a light, I couldn't see the bottom.

Briares slumped against the wall. He scooped up water in a dozen hands and washed his face. "This pit goes straight to Tartarus," he murmured. "I should jump in and save you trouble."

"Don't talk that way," Annabeth told him. "You can come back to camp with us. You can help us prepare. You know more about fighting Titans than anybody."

"I have nothing to offer," Briares said. "I have lost everything."

"What about your brothers?" Tyson asked. "The other two must stand tall as mountains! We can take you to them."

Briares's expression morphed to something even sadder: his grieving face. "They are no more. They faded."

The waterfalls thundered. Tyson stared into the pit and blinked tears out of his eye.

"What exactly do you mean, they faded?" Percy asked. "I thought monsters were immortal, like the gods."

"Percy," I said, "even immortality has limits. Sometimes... sometimes monsters get forgotten and they lose their will to stay immortal."

"I must go," Briares said.

"Kronos's army will invade camp," Tyson said. "We need help."

Briares hung his head. "I cannot, Cyclops."

"You are strong."

"Not anymore." Briares rose.

"Hey," Percy grabbed one of his arms and pulled him aside, where the roar of the water would hide their words.

Briares turned and trudged off down the corridor until he was lost in the shadows.

Tyson sobbed.

"It's okay," Grover hesitantly patted his shoulder, which must've taken all his courage.

Tyson sneezed. "It's not okay, goat boy. He was my hero."

I wanted to make him feel better, but I wasn't sure what to say.

Finally Annabeth stood and shouldered her backpack. "Come on, guys. This pit is making me nervous. Let's find a better place to camp for the night."

* * *

We settled in a corridor made of huge marble blocks. It looked like it could've been part of a Greek tomb, with bronze torch holders fastened to the walls. It had to be an older part of the maze, and Annabeth decided this was a good sign.

"We must be close to Daedalus's workshop," she said. "Get some rest, everybody. We'll keep going in the morning."

"How do we know when it's morning?" Grover asked.

"Just rest," she insisted.

Grover didn't need to be told twice. He pulled a heap of straw out of his pack, ate some of it, made a pillow out of the rest, and was snoring in no time. Tyson took longer getting to sleep. He tinkered with some metal scraps from his building kit for a while, but whatever he was making, he wasn't happy with it. He kept disassembling the pieces.

"I'm sorry I lost the shield," Percy told him. "You worked so hard to repair it."

Tyson looked up. His eye was bloodshot from crying. "Do not worry, brother. You saved me. You wouldn't have had to if Briares had helped."

"He was just scared," Percy said. "I'm sure he'll get over it."

"He is not strong," Tyson said. "He is not important anymore."

He heaved a big sad sigh, then closed his eye. The metal pieces fell out of his hand, still unassembled, and Tyson began to snore.

Annabeth decided she would try to sleep, but made no sounds.

I tried to fall asleep myself, but I couldn't. I picked up my bedroll and dragged it over to where Percy was sitting, keeping watch.

I sat down next to him.

"You should sleep," I said.

"Can't. You doing all right?"

"Sure."

 

"We'll get there," Percy said. "We'll find the workshop before Luke does."

"I just wish the quest was logical," I complained. "I mean, we're traveling but we have no idea where we'll end up. How can you walk from New York to California in a day?"

"Space isn't the same in the maze."

"I know, I know. It's just..." I looked at him hesitantly. "I just don't know what we're doing..."

"We never know what we're doing. It always works out. Remember Circe's island?"

I snorted. "You made a cute guinea pig."

"And Waterland, how you got us thrown off that ride?"

"I got us thrown off? That was totally your fault!"

"See? It'll be fine."

I smiled, but my smile faded quickly.

"Percy, what did Hera mean when she said you knew the way to get through the maze?"

"I don't know," Percy admitted. "Honestly."

"You'd tell me if you did?"

"Sure."

We sat in silence, listening to strange creaks and groans in the maze, the echo of stones grinding together as tunnels changed, grew, and expanded.

"Nico is down here somewhere," Percy said. "That's how he disappeared from camp. He found the Labyrinth. Then he found a path that led down even farther—to the Underworld. But now he's back in the maze. He's coming after me."

I was quiet for a long time. "Percy, I hope you're wrong. But if you're right..." I stared at the flashlight beam, casting a dim circle on the stone wall.

"How about I take first watch?" Percy said. "I'll wake you if anything happens."

I wanted to protest, but I just nodded, slumped into my bedroll, and closed my eyes.

* * *

There was no morning in the maze, but once everyone woke up and had a fabulous breakfast of granola bars and juice boxes, we kept traveling.

The old stone tunnels changed to dirt with cedar beams, like a gold mine or something. Annabeth started getting agitated.

"This isn't right," she said. "It should still be stone."

We came to a cave where stalactites hung low from the ceiling. In the center of the dirt floor was a rectangular pit, like a grave.

Grover shivered. "It smells like the Underworld in here."

Then I saw something glinting at the edge of the pit—a foil wrapper. Percy shined his flashlight into the hole and saw a half-chewed cheeseburger floating in brown carbonated muck.

"Nico," Percy said. "He was summoning the dead again."

Tyson whimpered. "Ghosts were here. I don't like ghosts."

"We've got to find him." Percy started to run.

"Percy!" I called.

Percy ducked into a tunnel. By the time Annabeth, Tyson, Grover, and I caught up with Percy, he was staring at daylight streaming through a set of bars above his head. We were under a steel grate made out of metal pipes. I could see trees and blue sky.

"Where are we?" Percy wondered.

Then a shadow fell across the grate and a cow stared down at Percy. It looked like a normal cow except with was a weird color—bright red, like a cherry.

The cow mooed, put one hoof tentatively on the bars, then backed away.

"It's a cattle guard," Grover said.

"A what?" Percy asked.

"They put them at the gates of ranches so cows can't get out. They can't walk on them."

"How do you know that?"

Grover huffed indignantly. "Believe me, if you had hooves, you'd know about cattle guards. They're annoying!"

I turned to Annabeth. "Didn't Hera say something about a ranch? We need to check it out. Nico might be there."

She hesitated. "All right. But how do we get out?"

Tyson solved that problem by hitting the cattle guard with both hands. It popped off and went flying out of sight. We heard a CLANG! and a startled Moo! Tyson blushed.

"Sorry, cow!" he called.

Then he gave us a boost out of the tunnel.

We were on a ranch, all right. Rolling hills stretched to the horizon, dotted with oak trees and cactuses and boulders. A barbed wire fence ran from the gate in either direction. Cherry-colored cows roamed around, grazing on clumps of grass.

"Red cattle," I said. "The cattle of the sun."

"What?" Percy asked.

"They're sacred to Apollo."

"Holy cows?"

"Exactly. But what are they doing—"

"Wait," Grover said. "Listen."

At first everything seemed quiet... but then I heard it: the distant baying of dogs. The sound got louder. Then the underbrush rustled, and two dogs broke through. Except it wasn't two dogs. It was one dog with two heads. It looked like a greyhound, long and snaky and sleek brown, but its neck V'd into two heads, both of them snapping and snarling and generally not very glad to see us.

"Bad Janus dog!" Tyson cried.

"Arf!" Grover told it, and raised a hand in greeting.

The two-headed dog bared its teeth. I guess it wasn't impressed that Grover could speak animal. Then its master lumbered out of the woods, and I realized the dog was the least of our problems.

He was a huge guy with stark white hair, a straw cowboy hat, and a braided white beard— kind of like Father Time, if Father Time went redneck and got totally jacked. He was wearing jeans, a DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS T-shirt, and a denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off so you could see his muscles. On his right bicep was a crossed-swords tattoo. He held a wooden club about the size of a nuclear warhead, with six-inch spikes bristling at the business end.

"Heel, Orthus," he told the dog.

The dog growled at us once more, just to make his feelings clear, then circled back to his master's feet. The man looked us up and down, keeping his club ready.

"What've we got here?" he asked. "Cattle rustlers?"

"Just travelers," Annabeth said. "We're on a quest."

The man's eye twitched. "Half-bloods, eh?"

"Not all of us," I said.

"I'm Annabeth, daughter of Athena," Annabeth said. "This is Percy, son of Poseidon. Grover the satyr. Ariana, a goddess. Tyson the—"

"Cyclops," the man finished. "Yes, I can see that. I'm Eurytion, the cowherd for this here ranch. Son of Ares. You came through the Labyrinth like the other one, I reckon."

"The other one?" I asked. "You mean Nico di Angelo?"

"We get a load of visitors from the Labyrinth," Eurytion said darkly. "Not many ever leave."

"Wow," Percy said. "I feel welcome."

The cowherd glanced behind him like someone was watching. Then he lowered his voice. "I'm only going to say this once, demigods. Get back in the maze now. Before it's too late."

"We're not leaving," Annabeth insisted. "Not until we see this other demigod. Please."

Eurytion grunted. "Then you leave me no choice, missy. I've got to take you to the boss."

* * *

I didn't feel like we were hostages or anything. Eurytion walked alongside us with his club across his shoulder. Orthus the two-headed dog growled a lot and sniffed at Grover's legs and shot into the bushes once in a while to chase animals, but Eurytion kept him more or less under control.

 

We walked down a dirt path that seemed to go on forever. It must've been close to a hundred degrees, which was a shock after San Francisco. Heat shimmered off the ground. Insects buzzed in the trees. Flies swarmed us. Every so often we'd see a pen full of red cows or even stranger animals. Once we passed a corral where the fence was coated in asbestos. Inside, a herd of fire-breathing horses milled around. The hay in their feeding trough was on fire. The ground smoked around their feet, but the horses seemed tame enough. One big stallion looked at me and whinnied, columns of red flame billowing out his nostrils. I wondered if it hurt his sinuses.

"What are they for?" Percy asked.

Eurytion scowled. "We raise animals for lots of clients. Apollo, Diomedes, and... others."

"Like who?"

"No more questions."

Finally we came out of the woods. Perched on a hill above us was a big ranch house—all white stone and wood and big windows.

"It looks like a Frank Lloyd Wright!" Annabeth said.

We hiked up the hill.

"Don't break the rules," Eurytion warned as we walked up the steps to the front porch. "No fighting. No drawing weapons. And don't make any comments about the boss's appearance."

"Why?" Percy asked. "What does he look like?"

Before Eurytion could reply, a new voice said, "Welcome to the Triple G Ranch."

The man on the porch had a normal head, which was a relief. His face was weathered and brown from years in the sun. He had a slick black hair and a black pencil moustache like villains have in old movies. He smiled at us, but the smile wasn't friendly; more amused.

I didn't ponder that very long, though, because then I noticed his body... or bodies. He had three of them. Now you'd think I would've gotten used to weird anatomy after Janus and Briares, but this guy was three complete people. His neck connected to the middle chest like normal, but he had two more chests, one to either side, connected at the shoulders, with a few inches between. His left arm grew out of his left chest, and the same on the right, so he had two arms, but four armpits, if that makes any sense. The chests all connected into one enormous torso, with two regular but very beefy legs, and he wore the most oversized pair of Levis I'd ever seen. His chests each wore a different color Western shirt—green, yellow, red, like a stoplight. I wondered how he dressed the middle chest, since it had no arms.

The cowherd Eurytion nudged Percy. "Say Hello to Mr. Geryon."

"Hi," Percy said. "Nice chests—uh, ranch! Nice ranch you have."

Before the three-bodied man could respond, Nico di Angelo came out of the glass doors onto the porch. "Geryon, I won't wait for—"

He froze when he saw us. Then he drew his sword, which was short, sharp, and dark as midnight.

Geryon snarled when he saw it. "Put that away, Mr. di Angelo. I ain't gonna have my guests killin' each other."

"But that's—"

"Percy Jackson," Geryon supplied. "Annabeth Chase. Ariana. And a couple of their monster friends. Yes, I know."

"Monster friends?" Grover said indignantly.

"That man is wearing three shirts," Tyson said, like he was just realizing this.

"They let my sister die!" Nico's voice trembled with rage. "They're here to kill me!"

"Nico, we're not here to kill you." Percy raised his hands. "What happened to Bianca was—"

"Don't speak her name! You're not worthy to even talk about her!"

"Wait a minute," Annabeth pointed at Geryon. "How do you know our names?"

The three-bodied man winked. "I make it my business to keep informed, darlin'. Everybody pops into the ranch from time to time. Everyone needs something from ole Geryon. Now, Mr. di Angelo, put that ugly sword away before I have Eurytion take it form you."

Eurytion sighed, but he hefted his spiked club. At his feet, Orthus growled.

Nico hesitated. He looked thinner and paler than he had in the dreams. I wondered if he'd eaten in the last week. His black clothes were dusty from traveling in the Labyrinth, and his dark eyes were full of hate. He was too young to look so angry. I still remembered him as the cheerful little kid who played with Mythomagic cards.

Reluctantly, he sheathed his sword. "If you come near me, Percy, I'll summon help. You don't want to meet my helpers, I promise."

"I believe you," Percy said.

Geryon patted Nico's shoulder. "There, we've all made nice. Now come along, folks. I want to give you a tour of the ranch."

* * *

Geryon had a trolley thing—like one of those kiddie trains that take you around zoos. It was painted black and white in a cowhide pattern. The driver's car had a set of longhorns stuck to the hood, and the horn sounded like a cowbell. I figured maybe this was how he tortured people. He embarrassed them to death riding around in the moo-mobile.

Nico sat in the very back, probably so he could keep an eye on us. Eurytion crawled in next to him with his spiked club and pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes like he was going to take a nap. Orthus jumped in the front seat next to Geryon and began barking happily in two-part harmony.

Annabeth, Tyson, Grover, Percy, and I took the middle two cars.

"We have a huge operation!" Geryon boasted as the moo-mobile lurched forward. "Horses and cattle mostly, but all sorts of exotic varieties, too."

We came over a hill, and Annabeth gasped. "Hippalektryons? I thought they were extinct!"

At the bottom of the hill was a fenced-in pasture with a dozen of the weirdest animals I'd ever seen. Each had the front half of a horse and the back half of a rooster. Their rear feet were huge yellow claws. They had feathery tails and red wings. As I watched, two of them got in a fight over a pile of seed. They reared up on their wings at each other until the smaller one galloped away, its rear bird legs putting a little hop in its step.

"Rooster ponies," Tyson said in amazement. "Do they lay eggs?"

"Once a year!" Geryon grinned in the rearview mirror. "Very much in demand for omelettes!"

"That's horrible!" Annabeth said. "They must be an endangered species!"

Geryon waved his hand. "Gold is gold, darling. And you haven't tasted the omelettes."

"That's not right," Grover murmured, but Geryon just kept narrating the tour.

"Now, over here," he said, "we have our fire-breathing horses, which you may have seen on your way in. They're bred for war, naturally."

"What war?" I asked.

Geryon grinned slyly. "Oh, whichever one comes along. And over yonder, of course, are our prize red cows."

Sure enough, hundreds of the cherry-colored cattle were grazing the side of the hill.

"So many," Grover said.

"Yes, well, Apollo is too busy to see them," Geryon explained, "so he subcontracts to us. We breed them vigorously because there's such a demand."

"For what?" Percy asked.

Geryon raised an eyebrow. "Meat, of course! Armies have to eat."

"You kill the sacred cows of the sun god for hamburger meat?" Grover said. "That's the against ancient laws!"

"Oh, don't get so worked up, satyr. They're just animals."

"Just animals!"

"Yes, and if Apollo cared, I'm sure he would tell us."

"If he knew," I muttered.

Nico sat forward. "I don't care about any of this, Geryon. We had business to discuss, and this wasn't it!"

"All in good time, Mr. di Angelo. Look over here; some of my exotic game."

The next field was ringed in barbed wire. The whole area was crawling with giant scorpions.

"Triple G Ranch," Percy said. "Your mark was on the crates at camp. Quintus got his scorpions from you."

"Quintus..." Geryon mused. "Short gray hair, muscular, swordsman?"

"Yeah."

"Never heard of him," Geryon said. "Now, over here are my prize stables! You must see them."

I didn't need to see them, because as soon as we got within three hundred yards I started to smell them. Near the banks of a green river was a horse corral the size of a football field. Stables lined one side of it. About a hundred horses were milling around in the muck—and when I say muck, I mean horse poop. It was the most disgusting thing I'd ever seen, like a poop blizzard had come through and dumped four feet of the stuff overnight. The horses were really gross from wading through it, and the stables were just as bad. It reeked like you would not believe—worse than the garbage boats on the East River.

Even Nico gagged. "What is that?"

"My stables!" Geryon said. "Well, actually they belong to Aegas, but we watch over them for a small monthly fee. Aren't they lovely?"

"They're disgusting!" I said.

"Lots of poop," Tyson observed.

"How can you keep animals like that?" Grover cried.

"Y'all getting on my nerves," Geryon said. "These are flesh-eating horses, see? They like these conditions."

"Plus, you're too cheap to have them cleaned," Eurytion mumbled from under his hat.

"Quiet!" Geryon snapped. "All right, perhaps the stables are a bit challenging to clean. Perhaps they do make me nauseous when the wind blows the wrong way. But so what? My clients still pay me well."

"What clients?" Percy demanded.

"Oh, you'd be surprised how many people will pay for a flesh-eating horse. They make great garbage disposals. Wonderful way to terrify your enemies. Great at birthday parties! We rent them out all the time."

"You're a monster," Annabeth decided.

Geryon stopped the moo-mobile and turned to look at her. "What gave it away? Was it the three bodies?"

"You have to let these animals go," Grover said. "It's not right!"

"And the clients you keep talking about," I said. "You work for Kronos, don't you? You're supplying his army with horses, food, whatever they need."

Geryon shrugged, which was very weird since he had three sets of shoulders. It looked like he was doing the wave all by himself. "I work for anyone with gold, young lady. I'm a businessman. And I sell them anything I have to offer."

He climbed out of the moo-mobile and strolled toward the stables as if enjoying the fresh air. It would've been a nice view, with the river and the trees and hills and all, except for the quagmire of horse muck.

Nico got out of the back car and stormed over to Geryon. The cowherd Eurytion wasn't as sleepy as he looked. He hefted his club and walked after Nico.

"I came here for business, Geryon," Nico said. "And you haven't answered me."

"Mmm." Geryon examined a cactus. His left arm reached over and scratched his middle-chest. "Yes, you'll get a deal, all right."

"My ghost told me you could help. He said you could guide us to the soul we need."

"Wait a second," Percy said. "I thought I was the soul you wanted."

Nico looked at him like he was crazy. "You? Why would I want you? Bianca's soul is worth a thousand of yours! Now, can you help me, Geryon, or not?"

"Oh, I imagine I could," the rancher said. "Your ghost friend, by the way, where is he?"

Nico looked uneasy. "He can't form in broad daylight. It's hard for him. But he's around somewhere."

Geryon smiled. "I'm sure. Minos likes to disappear when things get... difficult."

"Minos?" Percy asked. "You mean that evil king? That's the ghost who's been giving you advice?"

"It's none of your business, Percy!" Nico turned back to Geryon. "And what do you mean about things getting difficult?"

The three-bodied man sighed. "Well, you see, Nico—can I call you Nico?"

"No."

"You see, Nico, Luke Castellan is offering very good money for half-bloods. Especially powerful half-bloods. And I'm sure when he learns your little secret, who you really are, he'll pay very, very well indeed."

Nico drew his sword, but Eurytion knocked it out of his hand. Before Percy could get up, Orthus pounced on his chest and growled, their faces an inch away.

"I would stay in the car, all of you," Geryon warned. "Or Orthus will tear Mr. Jackson's throat out. Now, Eurytion, if you would be so kind, secure Nico."

The cowherd spit into the grass. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you fool!"

Eurytion looked bored, but he wrapped one huge arm around Nico and lifted him up like a wrestler.

"Pick up the sword, too," Geryon said with distaste. "There's nothing I hate worse than Stygian Iron."

Eurytion picked up the sword, careful not to touch the blade.

"Now," Geryon said cheerfully, "we've had the tour. Let's go back to the lodge, have some lunch, and send an Iris-message to our friends in the Titan army."

"You fiend!" Annabeth cried.

Geryon smiled at her. "Don't worry, my dear. Once I've delivered Mr. di Angelo, you and your party can go. I don't interfere with quests. Besides, I've been paid well to give you safe passage, which does not, I'm afraid, include Mr. di Angelo."

"Paid by whom?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"Never you mind, darlin'. Let's be off, shall we?"

"Wait!" Percy said, and Orthus growled. He stayed perfectly still so he wouldn't tear his throat out. "Geryon, you said you're a businessman. Make me a deal."

Geryon narrowed his eyes. "What sort of deal? Do you have gold?"

"I've got something better. Barter."

"But Mr. Jackson, you've got nothing."

"You could have him clean the stables," Eurytion suggested innocently.

"I'll do it!" Percy said. "If I fail, you get all of us. Trade us all to Luke for gold."

"Assuming the horses don't eat you," Geryon observed.

"Either way, you get my friends," Percy said. "But if I succeed, you've got to let all of us go, including Nico."

"No!" Nico screamed. "Don't do me any favors, Percy. I don't want your help!"

Geryon chuckled. "Percy Jackson, those stables haven't been cleaned in a thousand years... though it's true I might be able to sell more stable space if all that poop was cleared away."

"So what have you got to lose?"

The rancher hesitated. "All right, I'll accept your offer, but you have to get it done by sunset. If you fail, your friends get sold, and I get rich."

"Deal."

He nodded. "I'm going to take your friends with me, back to the lodge. We'll wait for you there."

Eurytion gave Percy a funny look. It might have been sympathy. He whistled, and the dog jumped off Percy and onto my lap. I yelped.

Percy got out of the car and locked eyes with me.

"I hope you know what you're doing," I said quietly.

"I hope so, too."

Geryon got behind the driver's wheel. Eurytion hauled Nico into the backseat.

"Sunset," Geryon reminded Percy. "No later."

He laughed at Percy once more, sounded his cowbell horn, and the moo-mobile rumbled off down the trail.


	59. 59

The deck was set up for a party. Streamers and balloons decorated the railing. Geryon was flipping burgers on a huge barbecue cooker made from an oil drum. Eurytion lounged at a picnic table, picking his fingernails with a knife. The two-headed dog sniffed the ribs and burgers that were frying on the grill. Tyson, Grover, Annabeth, Nico, and I were all tossed in a corner, tied up like rodeo animals, with our ankles and wrists roped together and our mouths gagged.

"Let them go!" Percy yelled, out of breath. "I cleaned the stables!"

Geryon turned. He wore an apron on each chest, with one word on each, so together they spelled out: KISS—THE—CHEF. "Did you, now? How'd you manage it?"

Percy told him.

He nodded appreciatively. "Very ingenious. It would've been better if you'd poisoned that pesky naiad, but no matter."

"Let my friends go," Percy said. "We had a deal."

"Ah, I've been thinking about that. The problem is, if I let them go, I don't get paid."

"You promised!"

Geryon made a tsk-tsk noise. "But did you make me swear on the River Styx? No you didn't. So it's not binding. When you're conducting business, sonny, you should always get a binding oath."

Percy drew his sword. Orthus growled. One head leaned down next to Grover's ear and bared its fangs.

"Eurytion," Geryon said, "the boy is starting to annoy me. Kill him."

Eurytion studied him.

"Kill him yourself," Eurytion said.

Geryon raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Eurytion grumbled. "You keep sending me out to do your dirty work. You pick fights for no good reason, and I'm getting tired of dying for you. You want to fight the kid, do it yourself."

It was the most un-Areslike thing I'd ever heard son of Ares say.

Geryon threw down his spatula. "You dare defy me? I should fire you right now!"

"And who'd take care of your cattle? Orthus, heel."

The dog immediately stopped growling at Grover and came to sit by the cowherd's feet.

"Fine!" Geryon snarled. "I'll deal with you later, after the boy is dead!"

He picked up two carving knives and threw them at Percy. He deflected one with his sword. The other impaled itself in the picnic table an inch from Eurytion's hand.

Percy went on the attack. Geryon parried his first strike with a pair of red-hot tongs and lunged at his face with a barbecue fork. Percy got inside his next thrust and stabbed him right through the middle chest.

"Aghhh!" He crumpled to his knees. Percy waited for him to disintegrate, the way monsters usually do. But instead he just grimaced and started to stand up. The wound in his chef's apron started to heal.

"Nice try, sonny," he said. "Thing is, I have three hearts. The perfect backup system."

He tipped over the barbecue, and coals spilled everywhere. One landed next to Annabeth's face, and she let out a muffled scream. Tyson strained against his bonds, but even his strength wasn't enough to break them.

Percy jabbed Geryon in the left chest, but he only laughed. He stuck him in the right stomach. No good.

Percy ran into the house.

"Coward!" he cried. "Come back and die right!"

* * *

Percy got us untied. Eurytion didn't try to stop him. Then Percy stoked up the barbecue and threw the food into the flames as a burnt offering.

"Thanks, guys," Percy said. "I owe you one."

The sky thundered in the distance.

"Yay for Percy!" Tyson said.

"Can we tie up this cowherd now?" Nico asked.

"Yeah!" Grover agreed. "And that dog almost killed me!"

I looked at Eurytion, who still was sitting relaxed at the picnic table. Orthus had both his heads on the cowherd's knees.

"How long will it take Geryon to re-form?" Percy asked him.

Eurytion shrugged. "Hundred years? He's not one of those fast re-formers, thank the gods. You've done me a favor."

"You said you'd died for him before," Percy remembered. "How?"

"I've worked for that creep for thousands of years. Started as a regular half-blood, but I chose immortality when my dad offered it. Worst mistake I ever made. Now I'm stuck here at this ranch. I can't leave. I can't quit. I just tend the cows and fight Geryon's fights. We're kinda tied together."

"Maybe you can change things," Percy said.

Eurytion narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"Be nice to the animals. Take care of them. Stop selling them for food. And stop dealing with the Titans."

Eurytion thought about that. "That'd be all right."

"Get the animals on your side, and they'll help you. Once Geryon gets back, maybe he'll be working for you this time."

Eurytion grinned. "Now, that I could live with."

"You won't try to stop us leaving?"

"Shoot, no."

Annabeth rubbed her bruised wrists. She was still looking at Eurytion suspiciously. "Your boss said somebody paid for our safe passage. Who?"

The cowherd shrugged. "Maybe he was just saying that to fool you."

"What about the Titans?" Percy asked. "Did you Iris-message them about Nico yet?"

"Nope. Geryon was waiting until after the barbecue. They don't know about him."

Nico was glaring at Percy. I wasn't sure what to do about him. I doubted he would agree to come with us. On the other hand, I couldn't just let him roam around on his own.

"You could stay here until we're done with our quest," Percy told him. "It would be safe."

"Safe?" Nico said. "What do you care if I'm safe? You got my sister killed!"

"Nico," I said, "that wasn't Percy's fault. And Geryon wasn't lying about Kronos wanting to capture you. If he knew who you were, he'd do anything to get you on his side."

"I'm not on anyone's side. And I'm not afraid."

"You should be," I said. "Your sister wouldn't want—"

"If you cared for my sister, you'd help me bring her back!"

"A soul for a soul?" Percy said.

"Yes!"

"But if you didn't want my soul—"

"I'm not explaining anything to you!" He blinked tears out of his eyes. "And I will bring her back."

"Bianca wouldn't want to be brought back," Percy said. "Not like that."

"You didn't know her!" he shouted. "How do you know what she'd want?"

Percy stared at the flames in the barbecue pit. "Let's ask Bianca."

The sky seemed to grow darker all of a sudden.

"I've tried," Nico said miserably. "She won't answer."

"Try again. I've got a feeling she'll answer with me here."

"Why would she?"

"Because she's been sending me Iris-messages," Percy said, suddenly sure of it. "She's been trying to warn me what you're up to, so I can protect you."

Nico shook his head. "That's impossible."

"One way to find out. You said you're not afraid." Percy turned to Eurytion. "We're going to need a pit, like a grave. And food and drinks."

"Percy," Annabeth warned. "I don't think this is a good—"

"All right," Nico said. "I'll try."

Eurytion scratched his beard. "There's a hole dug out back for a septic tank. We could use that. Cyclops boy, fetch my ice chest from the kitchen. I hope the dead like root beer."


	60. 60

We did our summons after dark, at a twenty-foot-long pit in front of the septic tank. The tank was bright yellow, with a smiley face and red words painted on the side: HAPPY FLUSH DISPOSAL CO. It didn't quite go with the mood of summoning the dead.

The moon was full. Silver clouds drifted across the sky.

"Minos should be here by now," Nico said, frowning. "It's full dark."

"Maybe he got lost," Percy said.

Nico poured root beer and tossed barbecue into the pit, then began chanting in Ancient Greek. Immediately the bugs in the woods stopped chirping.

"Make him stop," Tyson whispered to me.

Part of me agreed. This was unnatural. The night air felt cold and menacing. But before I could say anything, the first spirits appeared. Sulfurous mist seeped out of the ground. Shadows thickened into human forms. One blue shade drifted to the edge of the pit and knelt to drink.

"Stop him!" Nico said, momentarily breaking his chant. "Only Bianca may drink!"

Percy drew Riptide. The ghosts retreated with a collective hiss at the sight of his celestial bronze blade. But it was too late to stop the first spirit. He had already solidified into the shape of a bearded man in white robes. A circlet of gold wreathed his head, and even in death his eyes were alive with malice.

"Minos!" Nico said. "What are you doing?"

"My apologies, master," the ghost said, though he didn't sound very sorry. "The sacrifice smelled so good, I couldn't resist." He examined his own hands and smiled. "It is good to see myself again. Almost in solid form—"

"You are disrupting the ritual!" Nico protested. "Get—"

The spirits of the dead began shimmering dangerously bright, and Nico had to take up the chant again to keep them at bay.

"Yes, quite right, master," Minos said with amusement. "You keep chanting. I've only come to protect you from these liars who would deceive you."

He turned to Percy as if he were some kind of cockroach. "Percy Jackson... my, my. The sons of Poseidon haven't improved over the centuries, have they?"

"We're looking for Bianca di Angelo," Percy said. "Get lost."

The ghost chuckled. "I understand you once killed my Minotaur with your bare hands. But worse things await you in the maze. Do you really believe Daedalus will help you?"

The other spirits stirred in agitation. I drew Nikao and Annabeth drew her knife and we helped Percy keep them away from the pit. Grover got so nervous he clung to Tyson's shoulder.

"Daedalus cares nothing for you, half-bloods," Minos warned. "You can't trust him. He is old beyond counting, and crafty. He is bitter from the guilt of murder and is cursed by the gods."

"The guilt of murder?" Percy asked. "Who did he kill?"

"Do not changed the subject!" the ghost growled. "You are hindering Nico. You try to persuade him to give up on his goal. I would make him a lord!"

"Enough, Minos," Nico commanded.

The ghost sneered. "Master, these are your enemies. You must not listen to them! Let me protect you. I will turn their minds to madness, as I did the others."

"The others?" Annabeth gasped. "You mean Chris Rodriguez? That was you?"

"The maze is my property," the ghost said, "not Daedalus's! Those who intrude deserve madness."

"Be gone, Minos!" Nico demanded. "I want to see my sister!"

The ghost bit back his rage. "As you wish, master. But I warn you. You cannot trust these heroes."

With that, he faded into mist.

Other spirits rushed forward, but Annabeth, Percy, and I kept them back.

"Bianca, appear!" Nico intoned. He started chanting faster, and the spirits shifted restlessly.

"Any time now," Grover muttered.

Then a silvery light flickered in the trees—a spirit that seemed brighter and stronger than the others. It came closer, and something told me to let it pass. It knelt to drink at the pit. When it arose, it was the ghostly form of Bianca di Angelo.

Nico's chanting faltered. I lowered Nikao. The other spirits started to crowd forward, but Bianca raised her arms and they retreated into the woods.

"Hello, Percy and Ariana," she said.

She looked the same as she had in life: a green cap set sideways on her thick black hair, dark eyes and olive skin like her brother. She wore jeans and a silvery jacket, the outfit of a Hunter of Artemis. A bow was slung over her shoulder. She smiled faintly, and her whole form flickered.

"Bianca," I said. My voice was thick. I'd felt guilty about her death for a long time, but seeing her in front of me was five times as bad, like her death was fresh and new. I remembered searching through the wreckage of the giant bronze warrior she'd sacrificed her life to defeat, and not finding any sign of her.

"I'm so sorry," I said.

"You have nothing to apologize for. I made my own choice. I don't regret it."

"Bianca!" Nico stumbled forward like he was just coming out of a daze.

She turned toward her brother. Her expression was sad, as if she'd been dreading this moment. "Hello, Nico. You've gotten so tall."

"Why didn't you answer me sooner?" he cried. "I've been trying for months!"

"I was hoping you would give up."

"Give up?" He sounded heartbroken. "How can you say that? I'm trying to save you!"

"You can't, Nico. Don't do this. Percy is right."

 

"No! He let you die! He's not your friend."

Bianca stretched out a hand as if to touch her brother's face, but she was made of mist. Her hand evaporated as it got close to living skin.

"You must listen to me," she said. "Holding a grudge is dangerous for a child of Hades. It is our fatal flaw. You have to forgive. You have to promise me this."

"I can't. Never."

"Percy has been worried about you, Nico. He can help. I let him see what you were up to, hoping he would find you."

"So it was you," Percy said. "You sent those Iris-messages."

Bianca nodded.

"Why are you helping him and not me?" Nico screamed. "It's not fair!"

"You are close to the truth now," Bianca told him. "It's not Percy you're mad at, Nico. It's me."

"No."

"You're mad because I left you to become a Hunter of Artemis. You're mad because I died and left you alone. I'm sorry for that, Nico. I truly am. But you must overcome the anger. And stop blaming Percy for my choices. It will be your doom."

"She's right," Annabeth broke in. "Kronos is rising, Nico. He'll twist anyone he can to his cause."

"I don't care about Kronos," Nico said. "I just want my sister back."

"You can't have that, Nico," Bianca told him gently.

"I'm the son of Hades! I can."

"Don't try," she said. "If you love me, don't..."

Her voice trailed off. Spirits had started to gather around us again, and they seemed agitated. Their shadows shifted. Their voices whispered, Danger!

"Tartarus stirs," Bianca said. "Your power draws the attention of Kronos. The dead must return to the Underworld. It is not safe for us to remain."

"Wait," Nico said. "Please—"

"Good-bye, Nico," Bianca said. "I love you. Remember what I said."

Her form shivered and the ghosts disappeared, leaving us alone with a pit, a Happy Flush septic tank, and a cold full moon.

* * *

None of us were anxious to travel that night, so we decided to wait until morning. I crashed on one of the leather couches in Geryon's living room, which was a lot more comfortable than a bedroll in the maze. Luckily, I had no dreams that night.

 

* * *

The next morning we walked down to the cattle guard and said our good-byes.

"Nico, you could come with us," Percy blurted out.

 

He shook his head. I don't think any of us had slept well in the demon ranch house, but Nico looked worse than anybody else. His eyes were red and his face chalky. He was wrapped in a black robe that must've belonged to Geryon, because it was three sizes too big even for a grown man.

"I need time to think." I could tell from his tone he was still angry.

"Nico," I said. "Bianca just wants you to be okay."

I put my hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away and trudged up the road toward the ranch house. Maybe it was my imagination, but the morning mist seemed to cling to him as he walked.

"I'm worried about him," Annabeth told me. "If he starts talking to Minos's ghost again—"

"He'll be alright," Eurytion promised. The cowherd had cleaned up nicely. He was wearing new jeans and a clean Western shirt and he'd even trimmed his beard. He'd put on Geryon's boots. "The boy can stay here and gather his thoughts as long as he wants. He'll be safe, I promise."

"What about you?" Percy asked.

Eurytion scratched Orthus behind one chin, then the other. "Things are going to be run a little different on this ranch from now on. No more sacred cattle meat. I'm thinking about soybean patties. And I'm going to befriend those flesh-eating horses. Might just sign up for the next rodeo."

"Well, good luck."

"Yep." Eurytion spit into the grass. "I reckon you'll be looking for Daedalus's workshop now?"

Annabeth's eyes lit up. "Can you help us?"

Eurytion studied the cattle guard, and I got the feeling the subject of Daedalus's workshop made him uncomfortable. "Don't know where it is. But Hephaestus probably would."

"That's what Hera said," Annabeth agreed. "But how do we find Hephaestus?"

Eurytion pulled something from under the collar of his shirt. It was a necklace—a smooth silver disk on a silver chain. The disk had a depression on the middle, like a thumbprint. He handed it to Annabeth.

"Hephaestus comes here from time to time," Eurytion said. "Studies the animals and such so he can make bronze automaton copies. Last time, I— uh—did him a favor. A little trick he wanted to play on my dad, Ares, and Aphrodite. He gave me that chain in gratitude. Said if I ever needed to find him, the disk would lead me to his forges. But only once."

"And you're giving it to me?" Annabeth asked.

Eurytion blushed. "I don't need to see the forges, miss. Got enough to do here. Just press the button and you'll be on your way."

Annabeth pressed the button and the disk sprang to life. It grew eight metallic legs. Annabeth shrieked and dropped it, much to Eurytion's confusion.

"Spider!" she screamed.

"She's, um, a little scared of spiders," Grover explained. "That old grudge between Athena and Arachne."

"Oh." Eurytion looked a little embarrassed. "Sorry, miss."

The spider scrambled to the cattle guard and disappeared between the bars.

"Hurry," I said. "That thing's not going to wait for us."

Annabeth wasn't anxious to follow, but we didn't have much choice. We said our good-byes to Eurytion, Tyson pulled the cattle guard off the hole, and we dropped back into the maze.

* * *

I wish I could've put the mechanical spider on a leash. It scuttled along the tunnels so fast, most of time I couldn't even see it. If it hadn't been for Tyson's and Grover's excellent hearing, we never would've known which way it was going.

We ran down a marble tunnel, then dashed to the left and almost fell into an abyss. The tunnel continued in front of us, but there was no floor for about a hundred feet, just gaping darkness and a series of iron rungs in the ceiling. The mechanical spider was about halfway across, swinging from bar to bar by shooting out metal web fiber.

"Monkey bars," Annabeth said. "I'm great at these."

She leaped onto the first rung and started swinging her way across. She was scared of tiny spiders, but not of plummeting to her death from a set of monkey bars. Go figure.

Annabeth got to the opposite side and ran after the spider. I followed. Then, Percy followed me. When we got across, I looked back and saw Tyson giving Grover a piggyback ride (or was it a goatyback ride?). the big guy made it across in three swings, which was a good thing since, just as he landed, the last iron bar ripped free under his weight.

We kept moving and passed a skeleton crumpled in the tunnel. It work the remains of a dress shirt, slacks, and a tie. The spider didn't slow down. Percy slipped on a pile of wood scraps, but when he shined a light on them I realized they were pencils—hundreds of them, all broken in half.

The tunnel opened up onto a large room. A blazing light hit us. Once my eyes adjusted, the first thing I noticed were the skeletons. Dozens littered the floor around us. Some were old and bleached white. Others were more recent and a lot grosser. They didn't smell quite as bad as Geryon's stables, but almost.

Then I saw the monster. She stood on a glittery dais on the opposite side of the room. She had the body of a huge lion and the head of a woman. She would've been pretty, but her hair was tied back in a tight bun and she wore too much makeup. She had a blue ribbon badge pinned to her chest that took me a moment to read: THIS MONSTER HAS BEEN RATED EXEMPLARY!

Tyson whimpered. "Sphinx."

Annabeth started forward, but the Sphinx roared, showing fangs in her otherwise human face. Bars came down on both tunnel exits, behind us and in front.

Immediately the monster's snarl turned into a brilliant smile.

"Welcome, lucky contestants!" she announced. "Get ready to play... ANSWER THAT RIDDLE!"

Canned applause blasted from the ceiling, as if there were invisible loudspeakers. Spotlights swept across the room and reflected off the dais, throwing disco glitter over the skeletons on the floor.

"Fabulous prizes!" the Sphinx said. "Pass the test, and you get to advance! Fail, and I get to eat you! Who will be our contestant?"

Annabeth grabbed my arm. "I've got this," she whispered. "I know what she's going to ask."

I didn't argue too hard. I didn't want Annabeth getting devoured by a monster, but I figured if the Sphinx was going to ask riddles, Annabeth was the best one of us to try.

She stepped forward to the contestant's podium, which had a skeleton in a school uniform hunched over it. She pushed the skeleton out of the way, and it clattered to the floor.

"Sorry," Annabeth told it.

"Welcome, Annabeth Chase!" the monster cried, though Annabeth hadn't said her name. "Are you ready for your test?"

"Yes," she said. "Ask your riddle."

"Twenty riddles, actually!" the Sphinx said gleefully.

"What? But back in the old days—"

"Oh, we've raised our standards! To pass, you must show proficiency in all twenty. Isn't that great?"

Applause switched on and off like somebody turning a faucet.

Annabeth glanced at me nervously. I gave her an encouraging nod.

"Okay," she told the Sphinx. "I'm ready."

A drumroll sounded from above. The Sphinx's eyes glittered with excitement. "What... is the capital of Bulgaria?"

Annabeth frowned. For a terrible moment, I thought she was stumped.

"Sofia," she said, "but—"

"Correct!" More canned applause. The Sphinx smiled so widely her fangs showed. "Please be sure to mark your answer clearly on your test sheet with a number 2 pencil."

"What?" Annabeth looked mystified. Then a test booklet appeared on the podium in front of her, along with a sharpened pencil.

"Make sure you bubble each answer clearly and stay inside the circle," the Sphinx said. "If you have to erase, erase completely or the machine will not be able to read your answers."

"What machine?" Annabeth asked.

The Sphinx pointed with her paw. Over by the spotlight was a bronze box with a bunch of gears and levers and a big Greek letter Ȇta on the side, the mark of Hephaestus.

"Now," said the Sphinx, "next question—"

"Wait a second," Annabeth protested. "What about 'What walks on four legs in the morning'?"

"I beg your pardon?" the Sphinx said, clearly annoyed now.

"The riddle about the man. He walks on four legs in the morning, like a baby, two legs in the afternoon, like an adult, and three legs in the evening, as an old man with a cane. That's the riddle you used to ask."

"Exactly why we changed the test!" the Sphinx exclaimed. "You already knew the answer. Now second question, what is the square root of sixteen?"

"Four," Annabeth said, "but—"

"Correct! Which U.S. president signed the Emancipation Proclamation?"

"Abraham Lincoln, but—"

"Correct! Riddle number four. How much—"

"Hold up!" Annabeth shouted.

I wanted to tell her to stop complaining. She was doing great! She should just answer the questions so we could leave.

"These aren't riddles," Annabeth said.

"What do you mean?" the sphinx snapped. "Of course they are. This test material is specially designed—"

"It's just a bunch of dumb, random facts," Annabeth insisted. "Riddles are supposed to make you think."

"Think?" The Sphinx frowned. "How am I supposed to test whether you can think? That's ridiculous! Now, how much force is required—"

"Stop!" Annabeth insisted. "This is a stupid test."

"Um, Annabeth," Grover cut in nervously. "Maybe you should just, you know, finish first and complain later?"

"I'm a child of Athena," she insisted. "And this is an insult to my intelligence. I won't answer these questions."

The spotlights glared. The Sphinx's eyes glittered pure black.

"Why then, my dear," the monster said calmly. "If you won't pass, you fail. And since we can't allow any children to be held back, you'll be EATEN!"

The Sphinx bared her claws, which gleamed like stainless steel. She pounced at the podium.

"No!" Tyson charged. I couldn't believe he was being so brave.

He tackled the Sphinx in midair and they crashed sideways into a pile of bones. This gave Annabeth just enough time to gather her wits and draw her knife. Tyson got up, his shirt clawed to shreds. The Sphinx growled, looking for an opening.

I drew Nikao and stepped in front of Annabeth. Percy drew Riptide and stood beside me.

"Turn invisible," Percy told her.

"I can fight!"

"No!" I yelled. "The Sphinx is after you! Let us get it."

As if to prove my point, the Sphinx knocked Tyson aside and tried to charge past Percy and me. Grover poked her in the eye with somebody's leg bone. She screeched in pain. Annabeth put on her cap and vanished. The Sphinx pounced right were she'd been standing, but came up with empty paws.

"No fair!" the Sphinx wailed. "Cheater!"

With Annabeth no longer in sight, the Sphinx turned on me. I raised my sword, but before I could strike, Tyson ripped the monster's grading machine out of the floor and threw it at the Sphinx's head, ruining her hair bun. It landed in pieces all around her.

"My grading machine!" she cried. "I can't be exemplary without my test scores!"

The bars lifted from the exits. We all dashed for the far tunnel. I could only hope Annabeth was doing the same.

The Sphinx started to follow, but Grover raised his reed pipes and began to play. Suddenly the pencils remembered they used to be parts of trees. They collected around the Sphinx's paws, grew roots and branches, and began wrapping around the monster's legs. The Sphinx ripped through them, but it brought us just enough time.

Tyson pulled Grover into the tunnel, and the bars slammed shut behind us.

"Annabeth!" I yelled.

"Here!" she said, right next to me. "Keep moving!"

We ran through the dark tunnels, listening to the roar of the Sphinx behind us as she complained about all the tests she would have to grade by hand.


	61. 61

I thought we'd lost the spider until Tyson heard a faint pinging sound. We made a few turns, backtracked a few times, and eventually found the spider banging its tiny head on a metal door.

The door looked like one of those old-fashioned submarine hatches—oval, with metal rivets around the edges and a wheel for a doorknob. Where the portal should've been was a big brass plaque, green with age, with a Greek Ȇta inscribed in the middle.

We all looked at each other.

"Ready to meet Hephaestus?" Grover said nervously.

"No," Percy admitted.

"Yes!" Tyson said gleefully, and he turned the wheel.

As soon as the door opened, the spider scuttled inside with Tyson right behind it. The rest of us followed.

The room was enormous. It looked like a mechanic's garage, with several hydraulic lifts. Some had cars on them, but others had stranger things: a bronze hippalektryon with its horse head off and a bunch of wires hanging out its rooster tail, a metal lion that seemed to be hooked up to a battery charger, and a Greek war chariot made entirely of flames.

Smaller projects cluttered a dozen worktables. Tools hung along the walls. Each had its own outline on a Peg-Board, but nothing seemed to be in the right place. The hammer was over the screwdriver place. The staple gun was where the hacksaw was supposed to go.

Under the nearest hydraulic lift, which was holding a '98 Toyota Corolla, a pair of legs stuck out—the lower half of a huge man in grubby gray pants and shoes even bigger than Tyson's. One leg was in a metal brace.

The spider scuttled straight under the car, and the sounds of banging stopped.

"Well, well," a deep voice boomed from under the Corolla. "What have we here?"

The mechanic pushed out on a back trolley and sat up.

He wore a jumpsuit smeared with oil and grime. Hephaestus was embroidered over the chest pocket. His leg creaked and clicked in its metal brace as he stood, and his left shoulder was lower than his right, so he seemed to be leaning even when he was standing up straight. His head was misshapen and bulging. He wore a permanent scowl. His black beard smoked and hissed. Every once in a while a small wildfire would erupt in his whiskers then die out. His hands were the size of catcher's mitts, but he handled the spider with amazing skill. He disassembled it in two seconds, then put it back together.

"There," he muttered to himself. "Much better."

The spider did a happy flip in his palm, shot a metallic web at the ceiling, and went swinging away.

Hephaestus glowered up at us. "I didn't make you, did I?"

"Uh," Annabeth said, "no, sir."

"Good," the god grumbled. "Shoddy workmanship."

He studied Annabeth and Percy. "Half-bloods," he grunted. "Could be automatons, of course, but probably not."

"We've met, sir," Percy told him.

"Have we?" the god asked absently. I got the feeling he didn't care one way or the other. He was just trying to figure out how his jaw worked, whether it was a hinge or a lever or what. "Well then, if I didn't smash you to a pulp the first time we met, I suppose I won't have to do it now."

He looked at Grover and frowned. "Satyr."

He looked at me and smiled. "Ariana."

Then he looked at Tyson, and his eyes twinkled. "A Cyclops. Good, good. What are you doing traveling with this lot?"

"Uh..." said Tyson, staring in wonder at the god.

"Yes, well said," Hephaestus agreed. "So, there'd better be a good reason you're disturbing me. The suspension on this Corolla is no small matter, you know."

"Sir," Annabeth said hesitantly, "we're looking for Daedalus. We thought—"

"Daedalus?" the god roared. "You want that old scoundrel? You dare to seek him out!"

His beard burst into flames and his black eyes glowed.

"Uh, yes, sir, please," Annabeth said.

"Humph. You're wasting your time." He frowned at something on his worktable and limped over to it. He picked up a lump of springs and metal plates and tinkered with them. In a few seconds he was holding a bronze and silver falcon. It spread its metal wings, blinked its obsidian eyes, and flew around the room.

Tyson laughed and clapped his hands. The bird landed on Tyson's shoulder and nipped his ear affectionately.

Hephaestus regarded him. The god's scowl didn't change, but I thought I saw a kinder twinkle in his eyes. "I sense you have something to tell me, Cyclops."

Tyson's smile faded. "Y-yes, lord. We met a Hundred-Handed One."

Hephaestus nodded, looking unsurprised. "Briares?"

"Yes. He—he was scared. He would not help us."

"And that bothered you."

"Yes!" Tyson's voice wavered. "Briares should be strong! He is older and greater than Cyclopes. But he ran away."

Hephaestus grunted. "There was a time I admired the Hundred-Handed Ones. Back in the days of the first war. But people, monsters, even gods change, young Cyclops. You can't trust 'em. Look at my loving mother, Hera. You met her, didn't you? She'll smile to your face and talk about how important family is, eh? Didn't stop her from pitching me off Mount Olympus when she saw my ugly face."

"But I thought Zeus did that to you," Percy said.

Hephaestus cleared his throat and spat into a bronze spittoon. He snapped his fingers, and the robotic falcon flew back to the worktable.

"Mother likes telling that version of the story," he grumbled. "Makes her seem more likeable, doesn't it? Blaming it all on my dad. The truth is, my mother likes families, but she likes a certain kind of family. Perfect families. She took one look at me and... well, I don't fit the image, do I?"

He pulled a feather from the falcon's back, and the whole automaton fell apart.

"Believe me, young Cyclops," Hephaestus said, "you can't trust others. All you can trust is the work of your own hands."

He focused on Percy and narrowed his eyes, as if he were reading his thoughts. "Oh, this one doesn't like me," he mused. "No worries, I'm used to that. What would you ask of me, little demigod?"

"We told you," Percy said. "We need to find Daedalus. There's this guy, Luke, and he's working for Kronos. He's trying to find a way to navigate the Labyrinth so he can invade our camp. If we don't get to Daedalus first—"

"And I told you, boy. Looking for Daedalus is a waste of time. He won't help you."

"Why not?"

Hephaestus shrugged. "Some of us get thrown off mountainsides. Some of us... the way we learn not to trust people is more painful. Ask me for gold. Or a flaming sword. Or a magical steed. These I can grant you easily. But a way to Daedalus? That's an expensive favor."

"You know where he is, then," Annabeth pressed.

"It isn't wise to go looking, girl."

"My mother says looking is the nature of wisdom."

Hephaestus narrowed his eyes. "Who's your mother, then?"

"Athena."

"Figures." He sighed. "Fine goddess, Athena. A shame she pledged never to marry. All right, half-blood. I can tell you what you want to know. But there is a price. I need a favor done."

"Name it," Annabeth said.

Hephaestus actually laughed—a booming sound like a huge bellows stoking a fire. "You heroes," he said, "always making rash promises. How refreshing!"

He pressed a button on his workbench, and metal shutters opened along the wall. It was either a huge window or a big-screen TV, I couldn't tell which. We were looking at a gray mountain ringed in forests. It must've been a volcano, because smoke rose from its crest.

"One of my forges," Hephaestus said. "I have many, but that used to be my favorite."

"That's Mount St. Helens," Grover said. "Great forests around there."

"You've been there?" Percy asked.

"Looking for... you know, Pan."

"Wait," Annabeth said, looking at Hephaestus. "You said it used to be your favorite. What happened?"

Hephaestus scratched his smoldering beard. "Well, that's where the monster Typhon is trapped, you know. Used to be under Mount Etna, but when we moved to America, his force got pinned under Mount St. Helens instead. Great source of fire, but a bit dangerous. There's always a chance he will escape. Lots of eruptions these days, smoldering all the time. He's restless with the Titan rebellion."

"What do you want us to do?" Percy said, "Fight him?"

Hephaestus snorted. "That would be suicide. The gods themselves ran from Typhon when he was free. No, pray you never have to see him, much less fight him. But lately I have sensed intruders in my mountain. Someone or something is using my forges. When I go there, it is empty, but I can tell it is being used. They sense me coming, and they disappear. I send my automatons to investigate, but they do not return. Something... ancient is there. Evil. I want to know who dares invade my territory, and if they mean to loose Typhon."

"You want us to find out who it is," I said.

"Aye," Hephaestus said. "Go there. They may not sense you coming. Go and find out what you can. Report back to me, and I will tell you what you need to know about Daedalus."

"All right," Annabeth said. "How do we get there?"

Hephaestus clapped his hands. The spider came swinging down from the rafters. Annabeth flinched when it landed at her feet.

"My creation will show you the way," Hephaestus said. "It is not far through the Labyrinth. And try to stay alive, will you? Humans are much more fragile than automatons."

 

* * *

We were doing okay until we hit the tree roots. The spider raced along and we were keeping up, but then we spotted a tunnel off to the side that was dug from raw earth, and wrapped in thick roots. Grover stopped dead in his tracks.

"What is it?" I said.

He didn't move. He stared openmouthed into the dark tunnel. His curly hair rustled in the breeze.

"Come on!" Annabeth said. "We have to keep moving."

"This is the way," Grover muttered in awe. "This is it."

"What way?" Percy asked. "You mean... to Pan?"

Grover looked at Tyson. "Don't you smell it?"

"Dirt," Tyson said. "And plants."

"Yes! This is the way. I'm sure of it!"

Up ahead, the spider was getting farther down the stone corridor. A few more seconds and we'd lose it.

"We'll come back," Annabeth promised. "On our way back to Hephaestus."

"The tunnel will be gone by then," Grover said. "I have to follow it. A door like this won't stay open!"

"But we can't," Annabeth said. "The forges!"

Grover looked at her sadly. "I have to, Annabeth. Don't you understand?"

She looked desperate, like she didn't understand at all. The spider was almost out of sight.

"We'll split up," I said.

"No!" Annabeth said. "That's way too dangerous. How will we ever find each other again? And Grover can't go alone."

Tyson put his hand on Grover's shoulder. "I—I will go with him."

"Tyson, are you sure?" Percy asked.

The big guy nodded. "Goat boy needs help. We will find the god person. I am not like Hephaestus. I trust friends."

Grover took a deep breath. "Percy, we'll find each other again. We've still got the empathy link. I just... have to."

"I hope you're right," Percy said.

"I know I am." I'd never heard him sound so confident about anything, except maybe that cheese enchiladas were better than chicken enchiladas.

"Be careful," I told him. He and Grover disappeared through the tunnel of tree roots and were lost in the darkness.

"This is bad," Annabeth said. "Splitting up is a really, really bad idea."

"We'll see them again," Percy said. "Now come on. The spider is getting away!"

* * *

It wasn't long before the tunnel started to get hot.

The stone walls glowed. The air felt as if we were walking through an oven. The tunnel sloped down and I could hear a loud roar, like a river of metal. The spider skittered along, with Annabeth and I right behind.

"Hey, wait up," Percy called to us.

I glanced back at him. "Yeah?"

"Something Hephaestus said back there... about Athena."

"She swore never to marry," Annabeth said. "Like Artemis and Hestia. She's one of the maiden goddesses."

"But then—"

"How come she has demigod children?"

"Uh... yeah."

"Percy, you know how Athena was born?"

"She sprung from the head of Zeus in full battle armor or something."

"Exactly. She wasn't born in the normal way. She was literally born from thoughts. Her children are born the same way. When Athena falls in love with a mortal man, it's purely intellectual, the way she loved Odysseus in the old stories. It's a meeting of minds. She would tell you that's the purest kind of love."

"So your dad and Athena... so you weren't..."

"I was a brain child," Annabeth said. "Literally. Children of Athena are sprung from the divine thoughts of our mother and the mortal ingenuity of our father. We are supposed to be a gift, a blessing from Athena on the men she favors."

"But—"

"Percy, the spider's getting away. Do you really want me to explain the exact details of how I was born?"

"Um... no. That's okay."

She ran ahead.

The roaring got louder. After another half mile or so, we emerged in a cavern the size of a Super Bowl stadium. Our spider escort stopped and curled into a ball. We had arrived at the forge of Hephaestus.

There was no floor, just bubbling lava hundreds of feet below. We stood on a rock ridge that circled the cavern. A network of metal bridges spanned across it. At the center was a huge platform with all sorts of machines, cauldrons, forges, and the largest anvil I'd ever seen—a block of iron the size of a house. Creatures moved around the platform—several strange, dark shapes, but they were too far away to make out details.

Annabeth picked up the metal spider and slipped it into her pocket. "Wait here."

"Hold it!" Percy said, but before Percy or I could argue, she put on her Yankees cap and turned invisible.

I didn't dare call after her, but I didn't like the idea of her approaching the forge on her own. If those things out there could sense a god coming, would Annabeth be safe?

I looked back at the Labyrinth tunnel. I missed Grover and Tyson already.

"We should go," I said, motioning Percy to follow. We crept along the outer rim of the lava lake, hoping we could get a better angle to see what was happening in the middle.

We moved along, trying to keep away from the edge, until we found our way blocked by a cart on metal wheels. I lifted up the tarp and found it was half full of scrap metal. I was about to squeeze my way around it when I heard voices from up ahead, probably from a side tunnel.

"Bring it in?" one asked.

"Yeah," another said. "Movie's just about done."

I panicked. We didn't have time to back up. There was nowhere to hide except... the cart. Percy and I scrambled inside and Percy pulled the tarp over us. I curled my fingers around Nikao, just in case we had to fight.

The cart lurched forward.

"Oi," a gruff voice said. "Thing weighs a ton."

"It's celestial bronze," the other said. "What did you expect?"

We got pulled along. We turned a corner, and from the sound of the wheels echoing against the walls I guessed we had passed down a tunnel and into a smaller room. Hopefully we were not about to be dumped into a smelting pot. If they started to tip us over, we'd have to fight our way out quick. I heard lots of talking, chattering voices that didn't sound human—somewhere between a seal's bark and a dog's growl. There were other sounds too—like an old-fashioned film projector and a tinny voice narrating.

"Just set it in the back," a new voice ordered from across the room. "Now, younglings, please attend to the film. There will be time for questions afterward."

The voices quieted down, and I could hear the film.

As a young sea demon matures, the narrator said, changes happen in the monster's body. You may notice your fangs getting longer and you may have a sudden desire to devour human beings. These changes are perfectly normal and happen to all young monsters.

Excited snarling filled the room. The teacher—I guess it must have been a teacher—told the younglings to be quiet, and the film continued. I didn't understand most of it, and I didn't dare look. The film kept talking about growth spurts and acne problems caused by working in the forges, and proper flipper hygiene, and finally it was over.

"Now, younglings," the instructor said, "what is the proper name of our kind?"

"Sea demons!" one of them barked.

"No. Anyone else?"

"Telekhines!" another monster growled.

"Very good," the instructor said. "And why are we here?"

"Revenge!" several shouted.

"Yes, yes, but why?"

"Zeus is evil!" one monster said. "He cast us into Tartarus just because we used magic!"

"Indeed," the instructor said. "After we made so many of the gods' finest weapons. The trident of Poseidon, for one. And of course—we made the greatest weapon of the Titans! Nevertheless, Zeus cast us away and relied on those fumbling Cyclopes. That is why we are taking over the forges of the usurper Hephaestus. And soon we will control the undersea furnaces, our ancestral home!"

I clutched Nikao.

"And so, younglings," the instructor continued, "who do we serve?"

"Kronos!" they shouted.

"And when you grow to be big telekhines, will you make weapons for the army?"

"Yes!"

"Excellent. Now, we've brought in some scraps for you to practice with. Let's see how ingenious you are."

There was a rush of movement and excited voices coming toward the cart. I got ready to fight. Percy grabbed Riptide. The tarp was thrown back. We jumped up, our swords in our hands, and found ourselves facing a bunch of... dogs.

Well, their faces were dogs, anyway, with black snouts, brown eyes, and pointy ears. Their bodies were sleek and black like sea mammals, with stubby legs that were half flipper, half foot, and humanlike hands with sharp claws. If you blended together a kid, a Doberman pinscher, and a sea lion, you'd get something like what I was looking at.

"A demigod and goddess!" one snarled.

"Eat them!" yelled another.

But that's as far as they got before Percy slashed a wide arc with Riptide and vaporized the entire front row of monsters.

"Back off!" I yelled at the rest, trying to sound fierce. Behind them stood their instructor—a six-foot-tall telekhine with Doberman fangs snarling at us. I did my best to stare him down.

"New lesson, class," Percy announced. "Most monsters will vaporize when sliced with a celestial bronze sword. This change is perfectly normal, and will happen to you right now if you don't BACK OFF!"

It worked. The monsters backed up, but there were at least twenty of them. Percy's fear factor wasn't going to last long.

Percy and I jumped out of the cart. Percy yelled, "CLASS DISMISSED!" and we ran for the exit.

The monsters charged after us, barking and growling. I hoped they couldn't run very fast with those stubby little legs and flippers, but they waddled along pretty well. Thank the gods there was a door in the tunnel leading out to the main cavern. I slammed it shut and turned the wheel handle to lock it, but I doubted it would keep them long.

I didn't know what to do. Annabeth was out here somewhere, invisible. Our chance for a subtle reconnaissance mission had been blown. Percy and I ran toward the platform at the center of the lava lake.

* * *

"Annabeth!" Percy yelled.

"Shhh!" Percy was wrestled down behind a big bronze cauldron. "You want to get us killed?"

I ran behind the cauldron, too.

I found her head and took off her Yankees cap. She shimmered into existence, scowling, her face streaked with ash and grime. "What is your problem?"

"We're going to have company!" Percy explained quickly about the monster orientation class. Her eyes widened.

"So that's what they are," she said. "Telekhines. I should've known. And they're making... well, look."

We peeked over the cauldron. In the center of the platform stood four sea demons, but these were fully grown, at least eight feet tall. Their black skin glistened in the firelight as they worked, sparks flying as they took turns hammering on a long piece of glowing hot metal.

"The blade is almost complete," one said. "It needs another cooling in blood to fuse the metals."

"Aye," a second said. "It shall be even sharper than before."

"What is that?" Percy whispered.

Annabeth shook her head. "They keep talking about fusing metals. I wonder—"

"They were talking about the greatest Titan weapon," Percy said. "And they... they said they made my father's trident."

"The telekhines betrayed the gods," I said. "They were practicing dark magic. I don't know what, exactly, but Zeus banished them to Tartarus."

"With Kronos."

I nodded. "We have to get out—"

No sooner had I said that than the door to the classroom exploded and young telekhines came pouring out. They stumbled over each other, trying to figure out which way to charge.

"Turn invisible," Percy said. "Get out!"

"What?" I shrieked. "No! We're not leaving you."

"I've got a plan. I'll distract them. You can use the metal spider—maybe it'll lead you back to Hephaestus. You have to tell him what's going on."

"But you'll be killed!"

"I'll be fine. Besides, we've got no choice."

"Go, Annabeth." I said, and turned to Percy. I kissed him.

"Be careful." I turned invisible and left with an invisible Annabeth.


	62. 62

"After so long a silence, it is unlikely our prayers will be answered. I have asked his best surviving friend to do the final honors." Chiron said.

Everybody watched me as I took a long green silk burial cloth, embroidered with a trident, and set it on the flames.

 

I turned to face the audience. "He was probably the bravest friend I've ever had. He..." Then I saw him. "He's right there!"

Heads turned. People gasped.

"Percy!" Beckendorf grinned. A bunch of other kids crowded around Percy and clapped him on the back. I heard a few curses from the Ares cabin, but Clarisse just rolled her eyes. Chiron cantered over and everyone made way for him.

"Well," he sighed with obvious relief. "I don't believe I've ever been happier to see a camper return. But you must tell me—"

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" I interrupted, shoving aside the other campers. I hugged him fiercely. The other campers fell silent.

I realized I was making a scene and pushed him away.

"I—we thought you were dead!"

"I'm sorry," Percy said. "I got lost."

Annabeth ran forward.

"LOST?" she yelled. "Two weeks, Percy? Where in the world—"

"Annabeth," Chiron interrupted. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private, shall we? The rest of you, back to your normal activities!"

Without waiting for us to protest, he picked up Annabeth, Percy, and I as easily as if we were kittens, slung us both on his back, and galloped off toward the Big House.

* * *

Percy explained how he'd caused the explosion at Mount St. Helens and gotten blasted out of the volcano. Percy told us he'd been marooned on an island. Then Hephaestus had found him and told him he could leave. A magic raft had carried him back to camp.

"You've been gone two weeks," I said. "When we heard the explosion, we thought—"

"I know," Percy said. "I'm sorry. But I figured out how to get through the Labyrinth. I talked to Hephaestus."

"He told you the answer?"

"Well, he sort of told me that I already knew. And I do. I understand now."

Percy told us his idea.

Annabeth's jaw dropped. "Percy, that's crazy!"

Chiron sat back in his wheelchair and stroked his beard. "There is precedent, however. Theseus had the help of Ariadne. Harriet Tubman, daughter of Hermes, used many mortals on her Underground Railroad for just this reason."

"But this is my quest," Annabeth said. "I need to lead it."

Chiron looked uncomfortable. "My dear, it is your quest. But you need help."

"And this is supposed to help? Please! It's wrong. It's cowardly. It's—"

"Hard to admit we need a mortal's help," Percy said. "But it's true."

Annabeth glared at him. "You are the single most annoying person I have ever met!" And she stormed out of the room.

 

"Sorry about that, Percy," I said, apologetic.

 

"She will calm down," Chiron promised.

"She's probably upset because you're telling her what to do," I said.

"In the morning I will have Argus take the three of you into Manhattan. You might stop by your mother's, Percy. She is... understandably distraught." Chiron said.

"Chiron," Percy said, "what about Grover and Tyson? Do you think—"

"I don't know, my boy." Chiron gazed into the empty fireplace. "Juniper is quite distressed. All her branches are turning yellow. The Council of Cloven Elders had revoked Grover's searcher license in absentia. Assuming he comes back alive, they will force him into a shameful exile." He sighed. "Grover and Tyson are very resourceful, however. We can still hope."

"I shouldn't have let them run off."

"Grover has his own destiny, and Tyson was brave to follow him. You would know if Grover was in mortal danger, don't you think?"

"I suppose. The empathy link. But—"

"I should go find Annabeth," I interrupted. "I'll see you later, Percy." I got up and left.

* * *

That night I slept in my own bunk. Dreams didn't find me.

The next morning I hiked over Half-Blood Hill and met Annabeth, Percy, and Argus on the road.

We didn't talk much in the van. Argus never spoke, probably because he had eyes all over his body, including—so I'd heard—at the tip of his tongue, and he didn't like to show that off.

Annabeth looked queasy, as if she'd slept badly.

"Bad dreams?" I asked.

She shook her head. "An Iris-message from Eurytion."

"Eurytion! Is something wrong with Nico?" Percy asked.

"He left the ranch last night, heading back into the maze. Nico was gone before he woke up. Orthus tracked his scent as far as the cattle guard. Eurytion said he'd been hearing Nico talk to himself the last few nights. Only now he thinks Nico was talking with the ghost again, Minos."

"He's in danger," Percy said.

"No kidding. Minos is one of the judges of the dead, but he's got a vicious streak a mile wide. I don't know what he wants with Nico, but—"

"That's not what I meant," Percy said. "I had this dream last night..." he told us about Luke, how he'd mentioned Quintus, and how his men had found a half-blood alone in the maze.

My jaw clenched. "That's very, very bad."

"So what do we do?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's a good thing you have a plan to guide us, huh?"

* * *

It was Saturday, and traffic was heavy going into the city. We arrived at Percy's mom's apartment around noon. When she answered the door, she gave Percy a hug.

"I told them you were all right," his mom said.

She sat us down at the kitchen table and insisted on feeding us her special blue chocolate-chip cookies while we caught her up on the quest.

When Percy got to the part about Geryon and the stables, his mom pretended like she was going to strangle him. "I can't get him to clean his room, but he'll clean a hundred tons of horse manure out of some monster's stables?"

Annabeth and I laughed.

"So," his mom said when he was done with the story, "you wrecked Alcatraz Island, made Mount St. Helens explode, and displaced half a million people, but at least you're safe."

"Yep," Percy agreed. "That pretty much covers it."

"I wish Paul were here," she said, half to herself. "He wanted to talk to you."

"Oh, right. The school," I said.

"What did you tell him?" Percy asked.

His mom shook her head. "What could I say? He knows something is different about you, Percy. He's a smart man. He believes that you're not a bad person. He doesn't know what's going on, but the school is pressuring him. After all, he got you admitted there. He needs to convince them the fire wasn't your fault. And since you ran away, that looks bad."

"I'll talk to him," Percy promised. "After we're done with the quest. I'll even tell him the truth if you want."

His mom put her hand on his shoulder. "You would do that?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he'll think we're crazy."

"He already thinks that."

"Then there's nothing to lose."

"Thank you, Percy. I'll tell him you'll be home..." She frowned. "When? What happens now?"

Annabeth broke her cookie in half. "Percy has this plan."

He told his mom.

She nodded slowly. "It sounds very dangerous. But it might work."

"You have the same abilities, don't you?" Percy asked. "You can see through the Mist."

His mom sighed. "Not so much now. When I was younger it was easier. But yes, I've always been able to see more than was good for me. It's one of the things that caught your father's attention, when we first met. Just be careful. Promise me you'll be safe."

"We'll try, Ms. Jackson," I said.

"Well, remember," she said, "Grover and Tyson are counting on you three."

"I know," Percy said.

His mom smiled. "Percy, you'd better use the phone in the hall. Good luck."

* * *

We arranged a meeting in Times Square. We found Rachel Elizabeth Dare in front of the Marriott Marquis, and she was completely painted gold.

I mean, her face, her hair, her clothes—everything. She looked like she'd been touched by King Midas. She was standing like a statue with five other kids all painted metallic—copper, bronze, silver. They were frozen in different poses while tourists hustled past or stopped to stare. Some passerby threw money at the tarp on the sidewalk.

The sign at Rachel's feet said, URBAN ART FOR KIDS, DONATIONS APPRECIATED.

We stood there for like five minutes, staring at Rachel, but if she noticed us she didn't let on. She didn't move or even blink that I could see.

"Maybe if we talk to her," I suggested.

After another few minutes, a kid in silver walked up from the hotel taxi stand, where he'd been taking a break. He took a pose like he was lecturing the crowd, right next to Rachel. Rachel unfroze and stepped off the tarp.

"Hey, Percy." She grinned. "Good timing! Let's get some coffee."

We walked down to a place called the Java Moose on West 43rd. Rachel ordered an Espresso Extreme, the kind of stuff Grover would like. Annabeth, Percy, and I got fruit smoothies and we sat at a table right under the stuffed moose. Nobody even looked twice at Rachel in her golden outfit.

"So," she said and looked over at Annabeth, "who's this?"

"Annabeth," Annabeth said. "Do you always dress in gold?"

"Not usually," Rachel said. "We're raising money for our group. We do volunteer art projects for elementary kids 'cause they're cutting art from the schools, you know? We do this once a month, take in about five hundred dollars on a good weekend. But I'm guessing you don't want to talk about that. You're a half-blood, too?"

"Shhh!" Annabeth said, looking around.

"Rachel, we've got a problem. And we need your help." Percy said.

Rachel narrowed her eyes at me. "You need my help?"

I stirred my straw in my smoothie. "Yeah," I said suddenly. "Maybe."

Percy told Rachel about the Labyrinth, and how we needed to find Daedalus. Percy told her what had happened the last few times we'd gone in.

"So you want me to guide you," she said. "Through a place I've never been."

"You can see through the Mist," Percy said. "Just like Ariadne. I'm betting you can see the right path. The Labyrinth won't be able to fool you as easily."

"And if you're wrong?"

"Then we'll get lost. Either way, it'll be dangerous. Very, very dangerous."

"I could die?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you said monsters don't care about mortals. That sword of yours—"

"Yeah," Percy said. "Celestial bronze doesn't hurt mortals. Most monsters would ignore you. But Luke... he doesn't care. He'll use mortals, demigods, monsters, whatever. And he'll kill anyone who gets in his way."

"Nice guy," Rachel said.

"He's under the influence of a Titan," Annabeth said defensively. "He's been deceived."

Rachel looked back and forth between us. "Okay," she said. "I'm in."

"Are you sure?" Percy asked.

"Hey, my summer was going to be boring. This is the best offer I've gotten yet. So what do I look for?"

"We have to find an entrance to the Labyrinth," I said. "There's an entrance at Camp Half-Blood, but you can't go there. It's off-limits to mortals."

Rachel nodded. "Okay. What does an entrance to the Labyrinth look like?"

"It could be anything," Annabeth said. "A section of wall. A boulder. A doorway. A sewer entrance. But it would have the mark of Daedalus on it. A Greek Δ, glowing in blue."

"Like this?" Rachel drew the symbol Delta in water on our table.

"That's it," Percy said. "You know Greek?"

"No," Rachel said. She pulled a big blue plastic hairbrush from her pocket and started brushing the gold out of her hair. "Let me get changed. You'd better come with me to the Marriott."

"Why?" Annabeth said.

"Because there's an entrance like that in the hotel basement, where we store our costumes. It's got the mark of Daedalus."


	63. 63

The metal door was half hidden behind a laundry bin full of dirty hotel towels. I didn't see anything strange about it, but Rachel showed me where to look, and I recognized the faint blue symbol etched in the metal.

"It hasn't been used in a long time," I said.

"I tried to open it once," Rachel said, "just out of curiosity. It's rusted shut."

"No." Annabeth stepped forward. "It just needs the touch of a half-blood."

Sure enough, as soon as Annabeth put her hand on the mark, it glowed blue. The metal door unsealed and creaked open, revealing a dark staircase leading down.

"Wow." Rachel looked calm, but I couldn't tell if she was pretending or not. She'd changed into a ratty Museum of Modern Art T-shirt and her regular marker-colored jeans, her blue plastic hairbrush sticking out of her pocket. Her red hair was tied back, but she still had flecks of gold in it, and traces of the gold glitter on her face. "So... after you?"

"You're the guide," I said. "Lead on."

The stairs led down to a large brick tunnel. It was so dark I couldn't see two feet in front of us, but Annabeth, Percy, and I had restocked on flashlights. As soon as we switched them on, Rachel yelped.

A skeleton was grinning at us. It wasn't human. It was huge, for one thing—at least ten feet tall. It had been strung up, chained by its wrists and ankles so it made a kind of giant X over the tunnel. But what really sent shivers down my spine was the single black eye socket in the center of its skull.

"A Cyclops," Annabeth said. "It's very old. It's not... anybody we know."

It wasn't Tyson, she meant. But that didn't make me feel much better. I still felt like it had been put here as a warning.

Rachel swallowed. "You have a friend who's a Cyclops?"

"Tyson," Percy said. "My half brother."

"Your half brother."

"Hopefully we'll find him down here," Percy said. "And Grover. He's a satyr."

"Oh." Her voice was small. "Well then, we'd better keep moving."

She stepped under the skeleton's left arm and kept walking. Annabeth, Percy, and I exchanged looks. I shrugged. We followed Rachel deeper into the maze.

After fifty feet we came to a crossroads. Ahead, the brick tunnel continued. To the right, the walls were made of ancient marble slabs. To the left, the tunnel was dirt and tree roots.

Percy pointed left. "That looks like the tunnel Tyson and Grover took."

Annabeth frowned. "Yeah, but the architecture to the right—those old stones—that's more likely to lead to an ancient part of the maze, toward Daedalus's workshop."

"We need to go straight," Rachel said.

Annabeth, Percy, and I looked at her.

"That's the least likely choice," Annabeth said.

"You don't see it?" Rachel asked. "Look at the floor."

I saw nothing except well-worn bricks and mud.

"There's a brightness there," Rachel insisted. "Very faint. But forward is the correct way. To the left, farther down the tunnel, those tree roots are moving like feelers. I don't like that. To the right, there's a trap about twenty feet down. Holes in the walls, maybe for spikes. I don't think we should risk it."

Percy nodded. "Okay. Forward."

"You believe her?" Annabeth asked.

"Yeah," Percy said. "Don't you?"

Annabeth looked like she wanted to argue, but she waved at Rachel to lead on. Together we kept walking down the brick corridor. It twisted and turned, but there were no more side tunnels. We seemed to be angling down, heading deeper underground.

"No traps?" Percy asked anxiously.

"Nothing." Rachel knit her eyebrows. "Should it be this easy?"

"I don't know," Percy said. "It never was before."

"So, Rachel," I said, "where are you from, exactly?"

"Brooklyn," she said.

"Aren't your parents going to be worried if you're out late?"

Rachel exhaled. "Not likely. I could be gone a week and they'd never notice."

"Why not?"

Before Rachel could answer, there was a creaking noise in front of us, like huge doors opening.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I don't know," Rachel said. "Metal hinges."

"Oh, that's very helpful. I mean, what is it?"

Then I heard heavy footsteps shaking the corridor—coming toward us.

"Run?" Percy asked.

"Run," Rachel agreed.

We turned and fled the way we'd come, but we didn't make it twenty feet before we ran straight into some old friends. Two dracaenae—snake women in Greek armor—leveled their javelins at our chests. Standing between them was an empousa.

"Well, well," the empousa said.

Percy uncapped Riptide, I took out Nikao, and Annabeth pulled her knife; but before my sword was even out, the empousa pounced on Rachel. Her hand turned into a claw and she spun Rachel around, holding her tight with her talons at Rachel's neck.

"Taking your little mortal pet for a walk?" The empousa asked Percy. "They're such fragile things. So easy to break!"

Behind us, the footsteps came closer. A huge form appeared out of the gloom—an eight-foot-tall Laistrygonian giant with red eyes and fangs.

The giant licked his lips when he saw us. "Can I eat them?"

"No," The empousa said. "Your master will want these. They will provide a great deal of entertainment." She smiled at Percy. "Now march. Or you all die here, starting with the mortal girl."

* * *

It was pretty much my worst nightmare. And believe me, I've had plenty of nightmares. We were marched down the tunnel, flanked by dracaenae, with the empousa and giant in back, just in case we tried to run for it. Nobody seemed to worry about us running forward. That was the direction they wanted us to go.

Up ahead I could see bronze doors. They were about ten feet tall, emblazoned with a pair of crossed swords. From behind them came a muffled roar, like from a crowd.

"Oh, yessssss," said a snake woman. "You'll be very popular with our hossssst."

"Who's your host?" Percy asked.

She hissed, which might have been a laugh. "Oh, you'll sssssee. You'll get along furiousssly. He'ssss your brother, after all."

"My what?"

The giant pushed past us and opened the doors. He picked up Annabeth and me by our shirts and said, "You two stay here."

"Hey!" Annabeth protested.

The empousa laughed. She still had her claws at Rachel's neck. "Go on, Percy. Entertain us. We'll wait here with your friends to make sure you behave."

Percy looked at Rachel. "I'm sorry. I'll get you out of this."

She nodded as much as she could with a demon at her throat. "That would be nice."

The dracaenae prodded him toward the doorway at javelin-point, and he walked out onto the floor of an arena.

* * *

I guess it wasn't the largest arena I'd ever seen, but it seemed pretty spacious considering the whole place was underground. The dirt floor was circular, just big enough that you could drive a car around the rim if you pulled it really tight. In the center of the arena, a fight was going on between a giant and a centaur. The centaur looked panicked. He was galloping around his enemy, using sword and shield, while the giant swing a javelin the size of a telephone pole and the crowd cheered.

The first tier of seats was twelve feet above the arena floor. Plain stone benches wrapped all the way around, and every seat was full. There were giants, dracaenae, demigods, telekhines, and stranger things: bat-winged demons and creatures that seemed half human and half you name it—bird, reptile, insect, mammal.

But the creepiest things were the skulls. The arena was full of them. They ringed the edge of the railing. Three-foot-high piles of them decorated the steps between the benches. They grinned from pikes at the back of the stands and hung on chains from the ceiling like horrible chandeliers. Some of them looked very old—nothing but bleached-white bone. Others looked a lot fresher.

In the middle of all this, proudly displayed on the side of the spectator's wall, was a green banner with the trident of Poseidon in the center.

Above the banner, sitting in a seat of honor, was Luke.

"Luke," Percy said.

I'm not sure he could hear him over the roar of the crowd, but he smiled coldly. He was wearing camouflage pants, a white T-shirt, and bronze breastplate. But he still wasn't wearing his sword, which I thought was strange. Next to him sat a large giant. The giant next to Luke must've been fifteen feet tall, easy, and so wide he took up three seats. He wore only a loincloth, like a sumo wrestler. His skin was dark red and tattooed with blue wave designs.

There was a cry from the arena floor, and Percy jumped back as the centaur crashed to the dirt beside him.

He met his eyes pleadingly. "Help!"

Percy reached for his sword.

The centaur struggled to get up as the giant approached, his javelin ready.

"If you value your friendsss livesss," a dracaena guard said, "you won't interfere. This isssn't your fight. Wait your turn."

The centaur couldn't get up. One of his legs was broken. The giant put his huge foot on the horseman's chest and raised the javelin. He looked up at Luke. The crowd cheered, "DEATH! DEATH!"

Luke didn't do anything, but the tattooed sumo dude sitting next to him arose. He smiled down at the centaur, who was whimpering, "Please! No!"

Then the sumo dude held out his hand and gave the thumbs down sign.

I closed my eyes as the gladiator giant thrust his javelin. When I looked again, the centaur was gone, disintegrated to ashes. All that was left was a single hoof, which the giant took up as a trophy and showed the crowd. They roared their approval.

A gate opened at the opposite end of the stadium and the giant marched out in triumph.

In the stands, the sumo dude raised his hands for silence.

"Good entertainment!" he bellowed. "But nothing I haven't seen before. What else do you have, Luke, Son of Hermes?"

Luke's jaw tightened. I could tell he didn't like being called son of Hermes. He hated his father. But he rose calmly to his feet. His eyes glittered. In fact, he seemed to be in a pretty good mood.

"Lord Antaeus," Luke said, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "You have been an excellent host! We would be happy to amuse you, to repay the favor of passing through your territory."

"A favor I have not yet granted," Antaeus growled. "I want entertainment!"

Luke bowed. "I believe I have something better than centaurs to fight in your arena now. I have a brother of yours." He pointed at Percy. "Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

The crowd began jeering at him and throwing stones, most of which he dodged, but one caught him on the cheek and made a good-sized cut.

Antaeus's eyes lit up. "A son of Poseidon? Then he should fight well! Or die well!"

"If his death pleases you," Luke said, "will you let our armies cross your territory?"

"Perhaps!" Antaeus said.

Luke didn't look too pleased about the "perhaps." He glared down at Percy.

"Luke!" I yelled. "Stop this. Let us go!"

Luke seemed to notice me for the first time. He looked stunned for a moment. "Ariana?"

"Enough time for the females to fight afterward," Antaeus interrupted. "First, Percy Jackson, what weapons will you choose?"

The dracaenae pushed him into the middle of the arena.

Percy stared up at Antaeus. "How can you be a son of Poseidon?"

"I am his favorite son!" Antaeus boomed. "Behold, my temple to the Earthshaker, built from the skulls of all those I've killed in his name! Your skull shall join them!"

I stared in horror at all the skulls—hundreds of them—and the banner of Poseidon.

"Percy!" Annabeth yelled at him. "His mother is Gaea! Gae—"

Her Laistrygonian captor clamped his hand over her mouth. His mother is Gaea. The earth goddess.

"You're crazy, Antaeus," Percy said. "If you think this is a good tribute, you know nothing about Poseidon."

The crowd screamed insults at him, but Antaeus raised his hand for silence.

"Weapons," he insisted. "And then we will see how you die. Will you have axes? Shields? Nets? Flamethrowers?"

"Just my sword," Percy said.

Laughter erupted from the monsters, but immediately Riptide appeared in his hands, and some of the voices in the crowd turned nervous. The bronze blade glowed with a faint light.

"Round one!" Antaeus announced. The gates opened, and a dracaena slithered out. She had a trident in one hand and a weighted net in the other— classic gladiator style.

She jabbed at Percy experimentally. He stepped away. She threw her net, hoping to tangle his sword hand, but he sidestepped easily, sliced her spear in half, and stabbed Riptide through a chink in her armor. With a painful wail, she vaporized into nothing, and the cheering of the crowd died.

"No!" Antaeus bellowed. "Too fast! You must wait for the kill. Only I give that order!"

Percy glanced over at Annabeth, Rachel, and me.

"Nice job, Percy." Luke smiled. "You've gotten better with the sword. I'll grant you that."

"Round two!" Antaeus yelled. "And slower this time! More entertainment! Wait for my call before killing anybody. OR ELSE!"

The gates opened again, and this time a young warrior came out. He was a little older, about sixteen. He had glossy black hair, and his left eye was covered with an eye patch. He was thin and wiry so his Greek armor hung on him loosely. He stabbed his sword into the dirt, adjusted his shield straps, and pulled on his horsehair helmet.

"Who are you?" Percy asked.

"Ethan Nakamura," he said. "I have to kill you."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Hey!" a monster jeered from the stands. "Stop talking and fight already!" The others took up the call.

"I have to prove myself," Ethan told him. "Only way to join up."

And with that he charged. Their swords met in midair and the crowd roared. It didn't seem right.

He'd never been at Camp Half-Blood, as far as I knew, but he'd been trained. He parried Percy's strike and almost slammed him with his shield, but he jumped back. He slashed. Percy rolled to one side. They exchanged thrusts and parries, getting a feel for each other's fighting style.

"Blood!" the monsters cried.

Ethan glanced up at the stands.

He yelled an angry battle cry and charged Percy, but he parried his blade and backed away, letting him come after him.

"Boo!" Antaeus said. "Stand and fight!"

Ethan pressed Percy, but he had no trouble defending, even without a shield. The crowd went nuts, yelling complaints and throwing rocks. They'd been fighting for almost five minutes and there was no blood.

Finally Ethan made his mistake. He tried to jab at Percy's stomach, and Percy locked his sword hilt in his and twisted. His sword dropped into the dirt. Before he could recover, Percy slammed the butt of his sword into his helmet and pushed him down. He fell on his back, dazed and tired. Percy put the tip of his sword on his chest.

"Get it over with," Ethan groaned.

Percy looked up at Antaeus. His red face was stony with displeasure, but he held up his hand and put it thumbs down.

"Forget it." Percy sheathed his sword.

"Don't be a fool," Ethan groaned. "They'll just kill us both."

Percy offered him his hand. Reluctantly, he took it. Percy helped him up.

"No one dishonors the games!" Antaeus bellowed. "Your heads shall both be tributes to Poseidon!"

Percy looked at Ethan and said something. Then he turned back to Antaeus. "Why don't you fight me yourself? If you've got Dad's favor, come down here and prove it!"

The monsters grumbled in the stands. Antaeus looked around, and apparently realized he had no choice. He couldn't say no without looking like a coward.

"I am the greatest wrestler in the world, boy," he warned. "I have been wrestling since the first pankration!"

"Pankration?" Percy asked.

"He means fighting to the death," Ethan said. "No rules. No holds barred. It used to be an Olympic sport."

"Thanks for the tip," Percy said.

"Don't mention it."

Percy pointed his sword at Antaeus. "Winner takes all! I win, we all go free. You win, we die. Swear upon the River Styx."

Antaeus laughed. "This shouldn't take long. I swear to your terms!"

He leaped off the railing, into the arena.

"Good luck," Ethan told Percy. "You'll need it." Then he backed up quickly.

Antaeus cracked his knuckles. He grinned, and I saw that even his teeth were etched in wave patterns, which must've made brushing after meals a real pain.

"Weapons?" he asked.

"I'll stick with my sword. You?"

He held up his huge hands and wiggled his fingers. "I don't need anything else! Master Luke, you will referee this one."

Luke smiled down at Percy. "With pleasure."

Antaeus lunged. Percy rolled under his legs and stabbed him in the back of the thigh.

"Argggh!" he yelled. But where blood should've come out, there was a spout of sand. It spilled into the dirt floor, and the dirt collected around his leg, almost like a cast. When the dirt fell away, the wound was gone.

He charged again. Percy dodged sideways this time and stabbed him under the arm. Riptide's blade was buried to the hilt in his ribs. It was wrenched out of his hand when the giant turned, and Percy was thrown across the arena, weaponless.

Antaeus bellowed in pain. Antaeus groped for the hilt, pulled out the sword, and tossed it behind him. More sand poured from the wound, but again the earth rose up to cover him. Dirt coated his body all the way to his shoulders. As soon as the dirt spilled away, Antaeus was fine.

"Now you see why I never lose, demigod!" Antaeus gloated. "Come here and let me crush you. I'll make it quick!"

Antaeus stood between Percy and his sword.

Percy tried to skirt around him, but Antaeus anticipated his move. He blocked his path, chuckling. He was just toying with him now. He had him cornered.

Percy feinted to the other side. Antaeus blocked him. The crowd jeered and screamed at Antaeus to finish Percy off, but he was having too much fun.

"Puny boy," he said. "Not a worthy son of the sea god!"

Percy charged straight ahead, crouching low. While he was stooping, ready to catch him like a grounder, Percy jumped—kicking off his forearm, scrambling up his shoulder like it was a ladder, placing his shoe on his head. He did the natural thing. He straightened up indignantly and yelled "HEY!" Percy pushed off, using his force to catapult him toward the ceiling. Percy caught the top of a chain, and skulls and hooks jangled beneath him. He wrapped his legs around the chain. He drew Riptide and sawed off the chain next to him.

"Come down here, coward!" Antaeus bellowed. He tried to grab him, but he was just out of reach.

Hanging on for dear life, he yelled, "Come up and get me! Or are you too slow and fat?"

He howled and made another grab for him. He caught a chain and tried to pull himself up. While he was struggling, Percy lowered his sawed-off chain, hook first. It took him two tries, but he snagged Antaeus's loincloth.

"WAAA!" he yelled. Quickly Percy slipped the free chain through the fastening link on his own chain, pulled it taut, and secured it. Antaeus tried to slip back to the ground, but he stayed suspended by his loincloth. He had to hold on to the other chains with both hands to avoid getting flipped upside down. While Antaeus cursed and flailed, Percy scrambled around the chains, swinging and cutting. He made loops with hooks and metal links. Within a couple of minutes the giant was suspended above the ground, hopelessly snarled in chains and hooks. Percy dropped to the floor, panting and sweaty.

"Get me down!" Antaeus demanded.

"Free him!" Luke ordered. "He is our host!"

Percy uncapped Riptide. "I'll free him."

And he stabbed the giant in the stomach. He bellowed, and sand poured out, but he was too far up to touch the earth, and the dirt did not rise to hep him. Antaeus just dissolved, pouring out bit by bit, until there was nothing left but empty swinging chains, a really big loincloth on a hook, and a bunch of grinning skulls dancing above me like they had finally had something to smile about.

"Jackson!" Luke yelled. "I should have killed you long ago!"

"You tried," Percy reminded him. "Let us go, Luke. We had a sworn agreement with Antaeus. I'm the winner."

He said, "Antaeus is dead. His oath dies with him. But since I'm feeling merciful today, I'll have you killed quickly."

He pointed at Annabeth and me. "Spare the girls." His voice quavered just a little. "I would like speak to Annabeth before—before our great triumph. I would also like to marry Ariana."

Every monster in the audience drew a weapon or extended its claws. We were trapped. Hopelessly outnumbered.

Percy took a whistle out of his pocket and blew. It made no audible sound as it shattered into shards of ice.

Luke laughed. "What was that supposed to do?"

The Laistrygonian giant who'd been guarding Annabeth and me flew past and smashed into the wall.

"AROOOOF"

Kelli the empousa screamed as a five-hundred-pound black mastiff picked her up like a chew toy and tossed her through the air, straight into Luke's lap. Mrs. O'Leary snarled, and the two dracaenae guards backed away. For a moment the monsters in the audience were caught completely by surprise.

"Let's go!" Percy yelled at us. "Heel, Mrs. O'Leary!"

"The far exit!" Rachel cried. "That's the right way!"

Ethan Nakamura took his cue. Together we raced across the arena and out the far exit, Mrs. O'Leary right behind us. As we ran, I could hear the disorganized sounds of an entire army trying to jump out of the stands and follow us.


	64. 64

"This way!" Rachel yelled.

"Why should we follow you?" Annabeth demanded. "You led us straight into that death trap!"

"It was the way you needed to go," Rachel said. "And so is this. Come on!"

Annabeth didn't look happy about it, but she ran along with the rest of us. Rachel seemed to know exactly where she was going. She whipped around corners and didn't even hesitate at crossroads. Once she said, "Duck!" and we all crouched as a huge axe swung over our heads. Then we kept going as if nothing had happened.

I lost track of how many turns we made. We didn't stop to rest until we came to a room the size of a gymnasium with old marble columns holding up the roof. I stood at the doorway, listening for sounds of pursuit, but I heard nothing. Apparently we'd lost Luke and his minions in the maze.

Ethan collapsed on the floor. "You people are crazy." He pulled off his helmet. His face gleamed with sweat.

Annabeth gasped. "I remember you! You were one of the undetermined kids in the Hermes cabin, years ago."

He glared at her. "Yeah, and you're Annabeth. I remember."

"What—what happened to your eye?"

Ethan looked away, and I got the feeling that was one subject he would not discuss.

"You must be the half-blood from my dream," Percy said. "The one Luke's people cornered. It wasn't Nico after all."

"Who's Nico?"

"Never mind," I said quickly. "Why were you trying to join up with the wrong side?"

Ethan sneered. "There's no right side. The gods never cared about us. Why shouldn't I—"

"Sign up with an army that makes you fight to the death for entertainment?" Annabeth said. "Gee, I wonder."

Ethan struggled to his feet. "I'm not going to argue with you. Thanks for the help, but I'm out of here."

"We're going after Daedalus," Percy said. "Come with us. Once we get through, you'd be welcome back at camp."

"You really are crazy if you think Daedalus will help you."

"He has to," Annabeth said. "We'll make him listen."

Ethan snorted. "Yeah, well. Good luck with that."

Percy grabbed his arm. "You're just going to head off alone into the maze? That's suicide."

He looked at him with barely controlled anger. His eye patch was frayed around the edges and the black cloth was faded, like he'd been wearing it a long, long time. "You shouldn't have spared me, Jackson. Mercy has no place in this war."

Then he ran off into the darkness, back the way we'd come.

* * *

Annabeth, Rachel, Percy, and I were so exhausted we made camp right there in the huge room. Percy found some scrap wood and we started a fire. Shadows danced off the columns rising around us like trees.

"Something was wrong with Luke," Annabeth muttered, poking at the fire with her knife. "Did you notice the way he was acting?"

"He looked pretty pleased to me," Percy said. "Like he'd spent a nice day torturing heroes."

"That's not true! There was something wrong with him. He looked... nervous. He told his monsters to spare Ariana and me. He wanted to tell me something."

"Probably, 'Hi, Annabeth! Sit here with me and watch while I tear your friends apart. It'll be fun!'"

"You're impossible," Annabeth grumbled. She sheathed her dagger and looked at Rachel. "So which way now, Sacagawea?"

Rachel didn't respond right away. She'd become quieter since the arena. She'd burned the tip of a stick in the fire and was using it to draw ash figures on the floor, images of the monsters we'd seen. With a few strokes, she caught the likeness of a dracaena perfectly.

"We'll follow the path," she said. "The brightness on the floor."

"The brightness that led us straight into a trap?" I asked.

"Lay off her, Ariana," Percy said. "She's doing the best she can."

I stood. "The fire's getting low. I'll go look for some more scraps while you guys talk." And I marched off into the shadows.

A few minutes later, I found sticks. I picked a few up and went back. I tossed the sticks on the fire.

"I'll take first watch," Annabeth said. "You three should sleep."

I laid down. I was so tired I fell asleep as soon as my eyes closed.

* * *

I woke up to Percy yelling for me and Rachel to wake up.

The room was rumbling. I quickly got up. Rachel grabbed her pack, and the four of us ran. We were almost to the far tunnel when a column next to us groaned and buckled. We kept going as a hundred tons of marble crashed down behind us.

We made it to the corridor and turned just in time to see the other columns toppling. A cloud of white dust billowed over us, and we kept running.

"You know what?" Annabeth said. "I like this way after all."

It wasn't long before we saw light up ahead—like regular electric lighting.

"There," Rachel said.

We followed her into a stainless steel hallway. Fluorescent lights glowed from the ceiling. The floor was a metal grate.

I was so used to being in the darkness that I had to squint. Everybody looked pale in the harsh illumination.

"This way," Rachel said, beginning to run. "We're close!"

"This is so wrong!" Annabeth said. "The workshop should be in the oldest section of the maze. This can't—"

She faltered, because we'd arrived at a set of metal double doors. Inscribed in the steel, at eye level, was a large blue Greek Δ.

"We're here," Rachel announced. "Daedalus's workshop."

Annabeth pressed the symbol on the doors and they hissed open.

"So much for ancient architecture," Percy said.

Annabeth scowled. Together we walked inside.

The first thing that struck me was the daylight—blazing sun coming through giant windows. The workshop was like an artist's studio, with thirty-foot ceilings and industrial lighting, polished stone floors, and workbenches along with windows. A spiral staircase led up to a second-story loft. Half a dozen easels displayed hand-drawn diagrams for buildings and machines that looked like Leonardo da Vinci sketches. Several laptop computers were scattered around on the tables. Glass jars of green oil—Greek fire—lined one shelf. There were inventions, too—weird metal machines I couldn't make sense of. One was a bronze chair with a bunch of electrical wires attached to it. In another corner stood a giant metal egg about the size of a man. There was a grandfather clock that appeared to be made entirely of glass, so you could see all the gears turning. And hanging on the wall were several sets of bronze and silver wings.

"Di immortals," Annabeth muttered. She ran to the nearest easel and looked at the sketch. "He's a genius. Look at the curves on this building!"

"And an artist," Rachel said in amazement. "These wings are amazing!"

Apparently Daedalus was not at home, but the workshop looked like it had been recently used. The laptops were running their screen savers. A half-eaten blueberry muffin and a coffee cup sat on a workbench.

Percy and I walked to the window. The view outside was amazing. I recognized the Rocky Mountains in the distance. We were high up in the foothills, at least five hundred feet, and down below a valley spread out, filled with a tumbled collection of red mesas and boulders and spires of stone.

"Where are we?" Percy wondered.

"Colorado Springs," A voice said behind us. "The Garden of the Gods."

Standing on the spiral staircase above us, with his weapon drawn, was our missing sword master Quintus.

* * *

"You," Annabeth said. "What have you done with Daedalus?"

Quintus smiled faintly. "Trust me, my dear. You don't want to meet him."

"Look, Mr. Traitor," she growled, "I didn't fight a dragon woman and a three-bodied man and a psychotic Sphinx to see you. Now where is DAEDALUS?"

Quintus came down the stairs, holding his sword at his side. He was dressed in jeans and boots and his counselor's T-shirt from Camp Half-Blood, which seemed like an insult now that we knew he was a spy.

"You think I'm an agent of Kronos," he said. "That I work for Luke."

"Well, duh," said Annabeth.

"You're an intelligent girl," he said. "But you're wrong. I work only for myself."

"Luke mentioned you," I said. "Geryon knew about you, too. You've been to his ranch."

"Of course," he said. "I've been almost everywhere. Even here."

He walked past me. "The view changes from day to day," he mused. "It's always some place high up. Yesterday it was from a skyscraper overlooking Manhattan. The day before that, there was a beautiful view of Lake Michigan. But it keeps coming back to the Garden of the Gods. I think the Labyrinth likes it here. A fitting name, I suppose."

"You've been here before," Percy said.

"Oh, yes."

"That's an illusion out there?" Percy asked. "A projection or something?"

"No," Rachel murmured. "It's real. We're really in Colorado."

Quintus regarded her. "You have clear vision, don't you? You remind me of another mortal girl I once knew. Another princess who came to grief."

"Enough games," Percy said. "What have you done with Daedalus?"

Quintus stared at him. "My boy, you need lessons from your friend on seeing clearly. I am Daedalus."

"But you're not an inventor! You're a swordsman!" Percy said.

"I am both," Quintus said. "And an architect. And a scholar. I also play basketball pretty well for a guy who didn't start until he was two thousand years old. A real artist must be good at many things."

"That's true," Rachel said. "Like I can paint with my feet as well as my hands."

"You see?" Quintus said. "A girl of many talents."

"But you don't even look like Daedalus," Percy protested. "I saw him in a dream, and..."

 

"Yes," Quintus said. "You've finally guessed the truth."

"You're an automaton. You made yourself a new body."

"Percy," Annabeth said uneasily, "that's not possible. That—that can't be an automaton."

Quintus chuckled. "Do you know what Quintus means, my dear?"

"The fifth, in Latin. But—"

"This is my fifth body." The swordsman held out his forearm. He pressed his elbow and part of his wrist popped open—a rectangular hatch in his skin. Underneath, bronze gears whirred. Wires glowed.

"That's amazing!" Rachel said.

"That's weird," Percy said.

"You found a way to transfer your animus into a machine?" Annabeth said. "That's... not natural."

"Oh, I assure you, my dear, it's still me. I'm still very much Daedalus. Our mother, Athena, makes sure I never forget that." He tugged back the collar of his shirt. At the base of his neck was the mark I'd seen before—the dark shape of a bird grafted to his skin.

"A murderer's brand," I said.

"For your nephew, Perdix," Percy guessed. "The boy you pushed off the tower."

Quintus's face darkened. "I did not push him. I simply—"

"Made him lose his balance," Percy said. "Let him die."

Quintus gazed out the windows at the purple mountains. "I regret what I did, Percy. I was angry and bitter. But I cannot take it back, and Athena never lets me forget. As Perdix died, she turned him into a small bird—a partridge. She branded the bird's shape on my neck as a reminder. No matter what body I take, the brand appears on my skin."

"You really are Daedalus," I decided. "But why did you come to the camp? Why spy on us?"

"To see if your camp was worth saving. Luke had given me one story. I preferred to come to my own conclusions."

"So you have talked to Luke."

"Oh, yes. Several times. He is quite persuasive."

"But now you've seen the camp!" Annabeth persisted. "So you know we need your help. You can't let Luke through the maze!"

Daedalus set his sword on the workbench. "The maze is no longer mine to control, Annabeth. I created it, yes. In fact, it is tied to my life force. But I have allowed it to live and grow on its own. That is the price I paid for privacy."

"Privacy from what?"

"The gods," he said. "And death. I have been alive for two millennia, my dear, hiding from death."

"But how can you hide from Hades?" Percy asked. "I mean... Hades has the Furies."

"They do not know everything," he said. "Or see everything. You have encountered them, Percy. You know this is true. A clever man can hide quite a long time, and I have buried myself very deep. Only my greatest enemy has kept after me, and even him I have thwarted."

"You mean Minos," Percy said.

Daedalus nodded. "He hunts for me relentlessly. Now that he is a judge of the dead, he would like nothing better than for me to come before him so he can punish me for my crimes. After the daughters of Cocalus killed him, Minos's ghost began torturing me in my dreams. He promised that he would hunt me down. I did the only thing I could. I retreated from the world completely. I descended into my Labyrinth. I decided this would be my ultimate accomplishment: I would cheat death."

"And you did," Annabeth marveled, "for two thousand years." She sounded kind of impressed, despite the horrible things Daedalus had done.

Just then a loud bark echoed from the corridor. I heard the ba-BUMP, ba-BUMP, ba-BUMP of huge paws, and Mrs. O'Leary bounded into the workshop. She licked Percy's face once, then almost knocked Daedalus over with an enthusiastic leap.

"There is my old friend!" Daedalus said, scratching Mrs. O'Leary behind the ears. "My only companion all these long lonely years."

"You let her save me," Percy said. "That whistle actually worked."

Daedalus nodded. "Of course it did, Percy. You have a good heart. And I knew Mrs. O'Leary liked you. I wanted to help you. Perhaps I—I felt guilty, as well."

"Guilty about what?"

"That your quest would be in vain."

"What?" Annabeth said. "But you can still help us. You have to! Give us Ariadne's string so Luke can't get it."

"Yes... the string. I told Luke that the eyes of a clear-sighted mortal are the best guide, but he did not trust me. He was so focused on the idea of a magic item. And the string works. It's not as accurate as your mortal friend here, perhaps. But good enough. Good enough."

"Where is it?" I said.

"With Luke," Daedalus said sadly. "I'm sorry, my dear. But you are several hours too late."

With a chill I realized why Luke had been in such a good mood in the arena. He'd already gotten the string from Daedalus. His only obstacle had been the arena master, and Percy had taken care of that for him by killing Antaeus.

"Kronos promised me freedom," Quintus said. 'Once Hades is overthrown, he will set me over the Underworld. I will reclaim my son Icarus. I will make things right with poor young Perdix. I will see Minos's soul cast into Tartarus, where it cannot bother me again. And I will no longer have to run from death."

"That's your brilliant idea?" Annabeth yelled. "You're going to let Luke destroy your camp, kill hundreds of demigods, and then attack Olympus? You're going to bring down the entire world so you can get what you want?"

"Your cause is doomed, my dear. I saw that as soon as I began to work at your camp. There is no way you can hold back the might of Kronos."

"That's not true!" she cried.

"I am doing what I must, my dear. The offer was too sweet to refuse. I'm sorry."

Annabeth pushed over an easel. Architectural drawing scattered across the floor. "I used to respect you. You were my hero! You—you built amazing things. You solved problems. Now... I don't know what you are. Children of Athena are supposed to be wise, not just clever. Maybe you are just a machine. You should have died two thousand years ago."

Instead of getting mad, Daedalus hung his head. "You should go warn your camp. Now that Luke has the string—"

Suddenly Mrs. O'Leary pricked up her ears.

"Someone's coming!" Rachel warned.

The doors of the workshop burst open, and Nico was pushed inside, his hands in chains. Then a empousai and two Laistrygonians marched in behind him, followed by the ghost of Minos. He looked almost solid now—a pale bearded king with cold eyes and tendrils of Mist coiling off his robes.

He fixed his gaze on Daedalus. "There you are, my old friend."

Daedalus's jaw clenched. He looked at the empousai. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Luke sends his compliments," the empousai said. "He thought you might like to see your old employer Minos."

"This was not part of our agreement," Daedalus said.

"No indeed," the empousai said. "But we already have what we want from you, and we have other agreements to honor. Minos required something else from us, in order to turn over this fine young demigod." She ran a finger under Nico's chin. "He'll be quite useful. And all Minos asked in return was your head, old man."

Daedalus paled. "Treachery."

"Get used to it," the empousai said.

"Nico," Percy said. "Are you okay?"

He nodded morosely. "I—I'm sorry, Percy. Minos told me you were in danger. He convinced me to go back into the maze."

"You were trying to help us?"

"I was tricked," he said. "He tricked all of us."

I glared at the empousai. "Where's Luke? Why isn't he here?"

The she-demon smiled like we were sharing a private joke. "Luke is... busy. He is preparing for the assault. But don't worry. We have more friends on the way. And in the meantime, I think I'll have a wonderful snack!" Her hands changed into claws. Her hair burst into flame and her legs turned to their true form—one donkey leg, one bronze.

"Percy," Rachel whispered, "the wings. Do you think—"

"Get them," Percy said. "I'll try to buy you some time."

And with that, all Hades broke loose. Annabeth, Percy, and I charged at the empousai. The giants came right at Daedalus, but Mrs. O'Leary leaped to his defense.

Nico got pushed to the ground and struggled with his chains while the spirit of Minos wailed, "Kill the inventor! Kill him!"

Rachel grabbed the wings off the wall. Nobody paid her any attention. The empousai slashed at Annabeth. I tried to get to her, but the demon was quick and deadly. She turned over tables, smashed inventions, and wouldn't let us get close. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. O'Leary chomp her fangs into a giant's arm. He wailed in pain and flung her around, trying to shake her. Daedalus grabbed for his sword, but the second giant smashed the workbench with his fist, and the sword went flying. A clay jar of Greek fire broke on the floor and began to burn, green flames spreading quickly.

"To me!" Minos cried. "Spirits of the dead!" He raised his ghostly hands and the air began to hum.

"No!" Nico cried. He was on his feet now. He'd somehow managed to remove his shackles.

"You do not control me, young fool," Minos sneered. "All this time, I have been controlling you! A soul for a soul, yes. But it is not your sister who will return from the dead. It is I, as soon as I slay the inventor!"

Spirits began to appear around Minos—shimmering forms that slowly multiplied, solidifying into Cretan soldiers.

"I am the son of Hades," Nico insisted. "Be gone!"

Minos laughed. "You have no power over me. I am the lord of spirits! The ghost king!"

"No." Nico drew his sword. "I am."

He stabbed his black blade into the floor, and it cleaved through the stone like butter.

"Never!" Minos's form rippled. "I will not—"

The ground rumbled. The windows cracked and shattered to pieces, letting in a blast of fresh air. A fissure opened in the stone floor of the workshop, and Minos and all his spirits were sucked into the void with a horrible wail.

The fight was still going on all around us, and Percy let himself get distracted. The empousai pounced on him so fast he had no time to defend himself. His sword skittered away and he hit his head hard on a worktable as he fell.

The empousai laughed. "You will taste wonderful!"

She bared her fangs. I gripped Nikao and stabbed her in the back. She gasped, "No... school... spirit..."

And I took Nikao out of the empousa's back. With an awful screech, she dissolved into yellow vapor.

I helped Percy up. Mrs. O'Leary and Daedalus were still locked in combat with the giants, and I could hear shouting in the tunnel. More monsters were coming toward the workshop.

"We have to help Daedalus!" Percy said.

"No time," Rachel said. "Too many coming!"

She'd already fitted herself with wings and was working on Nico, who looked pale and sweaty from his struggle with Minos. The wings grafted instantly to his back and arms.

"Now you!" she told Percy.

In seconds, Nico, Annabeth, Rachel, Percy, and I had fitted ourselves with coppery wings. Already I could feel myself being lifted by the wind coming through the window. Greek fire was burning the tables and furniture, spreading up the circular stairs.

"Daedalus!" I yelled. "Come on!"

He was cut in a hundred places—but he was bleeding golden oil instead of blood. He'd found his sword and was using part of a smashed table as a shield against the giants. "I won't leave Mrs. O'Leary!" he said. "Go!"

There was no time to argue. Even if we stayed, I wasn't sure we could help.

"None of us know how to fly!" Nico protested.

"Great time to find out," Percy said. And together, the five of us jumped out the window into open sky.


	65. 65

I plummeted toward the valley and the red rocks below. Annabeth yelled from somewhere above me, "Spread your arms! Keep them extended."

I spread my arms. As soon as I spread them out, the wings stiffened, caught the wind, and my descent slowed. I soared downward, but at a controlled angle, like a kite in a dive.

I turned and saw everybody—Rachel, Annabeth, Percy, and Nico—spiraling above me, glinting in the sunlight. Behind them, smoke billowed from the windows of Daedalus's workshop.

"Land!" Annabeth yelled. "These wings won't last forever."

"How long?" Rachel asked.

"I don't want to find out!" I said.

We swooped down toward the Garden of the Gods. I did a complete circle around one of the rock spires and freaked out a couple of climbers. Then the four of us soared across the valley, over a road, and landed on the terrace of the visitor center. It was late afternoon and the place looked pretty empty, but we ripped off our wings as quickly as we could. Looking at them, I could see Annabeth was right. The self-adhesive seals that bound the wings to our backs were already melting, and we were shedding bronze feathers. It seemed a shame, but we couldn't fix them, and couldn't leave them around for the mortals, so we stuffed the wings in trash bins outside the cafeteria.

I used the tourist binocular camera to look up at the hill where Daedalus's workshop had been, but it had vanished. No more smoke. No broken windows. Just the side of a hill.

"The workshop moved," Annabeth guessed. "There's no telling where."

"So what do we do now?" Percy asked. "How do we get back in the maze?"

Annabeth gazed at the summit of Pikes Peak in the distance. "Maybe we can't. If Daedalus died... he said his life force was tied into the Labyrinth. The whole thing might've been destroyed. Maybe that will stop Luke's invasion."

"No," Nico said. "He isn't dead."

"How can you be sure?" Percy asked.

"I know when people die. It's this feeling I get, like a buzzing in my ears."

"What about Tyson and Grover, then?"

Nico shook his head. "That's harder. They're not humans or half-bloods. They don't have mortal souls."

"We have to get into town," I decided. "Our chances will be better of finding an entrance to the Labyrinth. We have to make it back to camp before Luke and his army."

"We could just take a plane," Rachel said.

Percy shuddered. "I don't fly."

"But you just did."

"That was low flying," Percy said, "and even that's risky. Flying up really high—that's Zeus's territory. I can't do it. Besides, we don't even have time for a flight. The labyrinth is the quickest way back."

"So we need a car to take us into the city," Annabeth said.

Rachel looked down into the parking lot. She grimaced, as if she were about to do something she regretted. "I'll take care of it."

"How?" I asked.

"Just trust me."

Annabeth looked uneasy, but she nodded. "Okay, I'm going to buy a prism in the gift shop, try to make a rainbow, and send an Iris-message to camp."

"I'll go with you," Nico said. "I'm hungry."

"I'll go with you two," I said. "I want to see what they have."

"I'll stick with Rachel, then," Percy said. "Meet you guys in the parking lot."

* * *

Nico, Annabeth, and I came out of the gift shop.

"I talked to Chiron," Annabeth said. "They're doing their best to prepare for battle, but he still wants us back. They're going to need every hero they can get. Did we find a ride?"

"The driver's ready when we are," Rachel said.

The chauffeur was talking to a guy in khakis and a polo shirt, probably his client who'd rented the car. The client was complaining, but I could hear the driver saying, "I'm sorry, sir. Emergency. I've ordered another car for you."

"Come on," Rachel said. She led us to the car and got in without even looking at the flustered guy who'd rented it. A minute later we were cruising down the road. The seats were leather. There was plenty of legroom. The backseat had flat-panel TVs built into the headrests and a mini-fridge stocked with bottled water, sodas, and snacks. We started pigging out.

"Where to, Miss Dare?" the driver asked.

"I'm not sure yet, Robert," she said. "We just need to drive through town and, uh, look around."

"Whatever you say, miss."

Percy looked at Rachel. "Do you know this guy?"

"No."

"But he dropped everything to help you. Why?"

"Just keep your eyes peeled," she said. "Help me look."

We drove through Colorado Springs for about half an hour and saw nothing that Rachel considered a possible Labyrinth entrance.

After about an hour we decided to head north toward Denver, thinking that maybe a bigger city would be more likely to have a Labyrinth entrance, but we were all getting nervous. We were losing time.

Then right as we were leaving Colorado Springs, Rachel sat bolt upright. "Get off the highway!"

The driver glanced back. "Miss?"

"I saw something, I think. Get off here."

The driver swerved across traffic and took the exit.

"What did you see?" I asked, because we were pretty much out of the city now. There wasn't anything around except hills, grassland, and some scattered farm buildings. Rachel had the driver turn down this unpromising dirt road. We drove by a sign too fast for me to read it, but Rachel said, "Western Museum of Mining & Industry."

For a museum, it didn't look like much—a little house like an old-fashioned railroad station, some drills and pumps and old steam shovels on display outside.

"There." Rachel pointed to a hole in the side of a nearby hill—a tunnel that was boarded up and chained. "An old mine entrance."

"A door to the Labyrinth?" Annabeth asked. "How can you be sure?"

"Well, look at it!" Rachel said. "I mean... I can see it, okay?"

She thanked the driver and we all got out. He didn't ask for money or anything. "Are you sure you'll be all right, Miss Dare? I'd be happy to call your—"

"No!" Rachel said. "No, really. Thanks, Robert. But we're fine."

The museum seemed to be closed, so nobody bothered us as we climbed the hill to the mine shaft. When we got to the entrance, I saw the mark of Daedalus engraved on the padlock, though how Rachel had seen something so tiny all the way from the highway I had no idea. I touched the padlock and the chains fell away. We kicked down a few boards and walked inside. For better or worse, we were back in the Labyrinth.

* * *

The dirt tunnels turned to stone. They wound around and split off and basically tried to confuse us, but Rachel had no trouble guiding us. We told her we needed to get back to New York, and she hardly even paused when the tunnels offered a choice.

Rachel and Annabeth started up a conversation as we walked. Annabeth asked her more about her background, but Rachel was evasive, so they started talking about architecture. It turned out that Rachel knew something about it from studying art. They talked about different facades on buildings around New York. I walked beside them, zoning out.

Rachel stopped, so I decided to stop too. We'd come to a crossroads. The tunnel continued straight ahead, but a side tunnel T'd off to the right—a circular shaft carved from volcanic rock.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

Rachel stared down the dark tunnel. In the dim flashlight beam, her face looked like one of Nico's specters.

"Is it that way?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Rachel said nervously. "Not at all."

"Why are we stopping then?" I asked.

"Listen," Nico said.

I heard wind coming down the tunnel, as if the exit were close. And I smelled something vaguely familiar—something that brought back bad memories.

"Eucalyptus trees," Percy said. "Like in California."

Last winter, when we'd faced Luke and the Titan Atlas on top of Mount Tamalpais, the air had smelled like that.

"There's something evil down that tunnel," Rachel said. "Something very powerful."

"And the smell of death," Nico added.

"Luke's entrance," Annabeth guessed. "The one to Mount Othrys—the Titans palace."

"I have to check it out," Percy said.

"Percy, no." I said.

"Luke could be right here," Percy said. "Or... or Kronos. I have to find out what's going on."

I hesitated. "Then we'll all go."

"No," Percy said. "It's too dangerous. If they got hold of Nico, or Rachel, or Annabeth for that matter, Kronos could use them. You stay here and guard them."

"Percy, don't," Rachel said. "Don't go up there alone."

"I'll be quick," Percy promised. "I won't do anything stupid."

Annabeth took her Yankees cap out of her pocket. "At least take this. And be careful."

"Thanks."

Percy put it on. "Here goes nothing." And he sneaked invisibly down the dark stone tunnel.

* * *

"PERCY!" Rachel yelled.

 

She threw a blue plastic hairbrush and it hit Luke in the eye.

"Ow!" he yelled. Percy ran straight into Rachel, Nico, Annabeth, and I. We were standing in the entry hall.

 

"Luke?" Annabeth called. "What—"

I grabbed her by the shirt and hauled her after me. I ran as fast as I've ever run, straight out of the fortress. We were almost back to the Labyrinth entrance when I heard the loudest bellow in the world—the voice of Kronos. "AFTER THEM!"

"No!" Nico yelled. He clapped his hands together, and a jagged spire of rock the size of an eighteen-wheeler erupted from the ground right in front of the fortress. The tremor it caused was so powerful the front columns of the building came crashing down. I heard muffled screams from something inside. Dust billowed everywhere.

We plunged into the Labyrinth and kept running, the howl of the Titan lord shaking the entire world behind us.


	66. 66

We ran until we were exhausted. Rachel steered us away from traps, but we had no destination in mind—only away from that dark mountain and the roar of Kronos.

We stopped in a tunnel of wet white rock, like part of a natural cave. I couldn't hear anything behind us, but I didn't feel any safer. I could still remember those unnatural golden eyes staring out of Luke's face.

"I can't go any farther," Rachel gasped, hugging her chest.

Annabeth had been crying the entire time we'd been running. Now she collapsed and put her head between her knees. Her sobs echoed in the tunnel. I sat and hugged my knees to my chest. Nico and Percy sat next to each other. Nico dropped his sword next to Percy's and took a shaky breath.

"That sucked," he said.

"You saved our lives," Percy said.

Nico wiped the dust off his face. "Blame the girls for dragging me along. That's the only thing they could agree on. We needed to help you or you'd mess things up."

"Nice that they trust me so much," Percy shined his flashlight across the cavern. Water dripped from the stalactites like a slow-motion rain. "Nico... you, uh, kind of gave yourself away."

"What do you mean?"

"That wall of black stone? That was pretty impressive. If Kronos didn't know who you were before, he does now—a child of the Underworld."

Nico frowned. "Big deal."

Annabeth lifted her head. Her eyes were red from crying. "What... what was wrong with Luke? What did they do to him?"

Percy told us what he'd seen in the coffin, the way the last piece of Kronos's spirit had entered Luke's body when Ethan Nakamura pledged his service.

"No," Annabeth said. "That can't be true. He couldn't—"

"He gave himself over to Kronos," Percy said. "I'm sorry, Annabeth. But Luke is gone."

"No!" she insisted. "You saw when Rachel hit him."

I nodded, looking at Rachel with respect. "You hit the Lord of the Titans in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush."

Rachel looked embarrassed. "It was the only thing I had."

"But you saw," Annabeth insisted. "When it hit him, just for a second, he was dazed. He came back to his senses."

"So maybe Kronos wasn't completely settled in the body, or whatever," Percy said. "It doesn't mean Luke was in control."

"You want him to be evil, is that it?" Annabeth yelled. "You didn't know him before, Percy. I did!"

"What is it with you?" Percy snapped. "Why do you keep defending him?"

"Whoa, you two," Rachel said. "Knock it off!"

Annabeth turned on her. "Stay out of it, mortal girl! If it wasn't for you..."

Whatever she was going to say, her voice broke. She put her head down and sobbed miserably. I wanted to comfort her, but I didn't know how. Kronos was alive. He was armed. And the end of the world was probably close at hand.

"We have to keep moving," Nico said. "He'll send monsters after us."

Nobody was in any shape to run, but Nico was right. Percy hauled himself up and helped Rachel and I to our feet.

"You did good back there," Percy told Rachel.

She managed a weak smile. "Yeah, well. I didn't want you to die." She blushed. "I mean... just because, you know. You owe me too many favors. How am I going to collect if you die?"

I knelt next to Annabeth. "Hey, I'm sorry. We need to move."

"I know," she said. "I'm... I'm all right."

She was clearly not all right. But she got to her feet, and we started straggling back through the Labyrinth again.

"Back to New York," Percy said. "Rachel, can you—"

I froze. A few feet in front of us, Percy's flashlight beam fixed on a trampled clump of red fabric lying on the ground. It was a Rasta cap: the one Grover always wore.

My hands shook as I picked up the cap. It looked like it had been stepped on by a huge muddy boot. After all that I'd gone through today, I couldn't stand the thought that something might've happened to Grover, too.

Then I noticed something else. The cave floor was mushy and wet from the water dripping off the stalactites. There were large footprints like Tyson's, and smaller ones—goat hooves—leading off to the left.

"We have to follow them," Percy said. "They went that way. It must have been recently."

"What about Camp Half-Blood?" Nico said. "There's no time."

"We have to find them," I insisted. "They're our friends."

I picked up Grover's smashed cap and forged ahead.

The tunnel was treacherous. It sloped at weird angles and was slimy with moisture. Half the time we were slipping and sliding rather than walking.

Finally we got to the bottom of a slope and found ourselves in a large cave with huge stalagmite columns. Through the center of the room ran an underground river, and Tyson was sitting by the banks, cradling Grover in his lap. Grover's eyes were closed. He wasn't moving.

"Tyson!" Percy yelled.

"Percy! Come quick!"

We ran over to him. Grover wasn't dead, thank the gods, but his whole body trembled like he was freezing to death.

"What happened?" I asked.

"So many things," Tyson murmured. "Large snake. Large dogs. Men with swords. But then... we got close to here. Grover was excited. He ran. Then we reached this room, and he fell. Like this."

"Did he say anything?" I asked.

"He said, 'We're close.' Then hit his head on rocks."

I knelt next to him. The only other time I'd seen Grover pass out was New Mexico, when he'd felt the presence of Pan.

Percy shined his flashlight around the cavern. The rocks glittered. At the far end was the entrance to another cave, flanked by gigantic columns of crystal that looked like diamonds. And beyond that entrance...

"Grover," Percy said. "Wake up."

"Uhhhhhhhh."

Annabeth knelt next to him and splashed icy cold river water in his face.

"Splurg!" His eyelids fluttered. "Percy? Ariana? Annabeth? Where..."

"It's okay," I said. "You passed out. The presence was too much for you."

"I—I remember. Pan."

"Yeah," I said. "Something powerful is just beyond that doorway."

Percy made quick introductions, since Tyson and Grover had never met Rachel. Tyson told Rachel she was pretty.

"Anyway," Percy said. "Come on, Grover. Lean on me."

Annabeth, Percy, and I helped him up, and together we waded across the underground river. The current was strong. The water came up to our waists. I willed myself to stay dry, but I could still feel the cold, like wading through a snowdrift.

"I think we're in Carlsbad Caverns," Annabeth said, her teeth chattering. "Maybe an unexplored section."

"How do you know?" Percy asked.

"Carlsbad is in New Mexico," she said. "That would explain last winter."

I nodded. Grover's swooning episode had happened when we passed through New Mexico. That's where he'd felt closest to the power of Pan.

We got out of the water and kept walking. As the crystal pillars loomed larger, I started to feel the power emanating from the next room. My skin tingled with living energy. My weariness fell away, as if I'd just gotten a good night's sleep. I could feel myself growing stronger, like one of those plants in a time-lapse video. And the scent coming from the cave was nothing like the dank wet underground. It smelled of trees and flowers and a warm summer day.

Grover whimpered with excitement. We stepped into the cave, and Rachel said, "Oh, wow."

The walls glittered with crystals—red, green, and blue. In the strange light, beautiful plants grew—giant orchids, star-shaped flowers, vines bursting with orange and purple berries that crept among the crystals. The cave floor was covered with green moss. Overhead, the ceiling was higher than a cathedral, sparkling like a galaxy of stars. In the center of the cave stood a Roman-style bed, gilded wood shaped like a curly U, with velvet cushions. Animals lounged around it—but they were animals that shouldn't have been alive. There was a dodo bird, something that looked like a cross between a wolf and a tiger, a huge rodent like the mother of all guinea pigs, and roaming behind the bed, picking berries with its trunk, was a wooly mammoth.

On the bed lay an old satyr. He watched us as we approached, his eyes as blue as the sky. His curly hair was white and so was his pointed beard. Even the goat fur on his legs was frosted with gray. His horns were enormous— glossy brown and curved. There was no way he could've hidden those under a hat the way Grover did. Around his neck hung a set of reed pipes.

Grover fell to his knees in front of the bed. "Lord Pan!"

The god smiled kindly, but there was sadness in his eyes. "Grover, my dear, brave satyr. I have waited a very long time for you."

"I... got lost," Grover apologized.

Pan laughed. It was a wonderful sound, like the first breeze of springtime, filling the whole cavern with hope. The tiger-wolf sighed and rested his head on the god's knee. The dodo bird pecked affectionately at the god's hooves, making a strange sound in the back of its bill. I could swear it was humming "It's a Small World."

Still, Pan looked tired. His whole form shimmered as if he were made of Mist.

My other friends were kneeling. They had awed looks on their faces. I got to my knees.

"You have a humming dodo bird," Percy said.

The god's eyes twinkled. "Yes, that's Dede. My little actress."

Dede the dodo looked offended. She pecked at Pan's knee and hummed something that sounded like a funeral dirge.

"This is the most beautiful place!" Annabeth said. "It's better than any building ever designed."

"I am glad you like it, dear," Pan said. "It is one of the last wild places. My realm above is gone, I'm afraid. Only pockets remain. Tiny pieces of life. This one shall stay undisturbed... for a little longer."

"My lord," Grover said, "please, you must come back with me! The Elders will never believe it! They'll be overjoyed! You can save the wild!"

Pan placed his hand on Grover's head and ruffled his curly hair. "You are so young, Grover. So good and true. I think I chose well."

"Chose?" Grover said. "I—I don't understand."

Pan's image flickered, momentarily turning to smoke. The giant guinea pig scuttled under the bed with a terrified squeal. The wooly mammoth grunted nervously. Dede stuck her head under her wing. Then Pan re-formed.

"I have slept many eons," the god said forlornly. "My dreams have been dark. I wake fitfully, and each time my waking is shorter. Now we are near the end."

"What?" Grover cried. "But no! You're right here!"

"My dear satyr," Pan said. "I tried to tell the world, two thousand years ago. I announced it to Lysas, a satyr very much like you. He lived in Ephesos, and he tried to spread the word."

Annabeth's eyes widened. "The old story. A sailor passing by the coast of Ephesos heard a voice crying from the shore, 'Tell them the great god Pan is dead.'"

"But that wasn't true!" Grover said.

"Your kind never believed it," Pan said. "You sweet, stubborn satyrs refused to accept my passing. And I love you for that, but you only delayed the inevitable. You only prolonged my long, painful passing, my dark twilight sleep. It must end."

"No!" Grover's voice trembled.

"Dear Grover," Pan said. "You must accept the truth. Your companion, Nico, he understands."

Nico nodded slowly. "He's dying. He should have died long ago. This... this is more like a memory."

"But gods can't die," Grover said.

"They can fade," Pan said, "when everything they stood for is gone. When they cease to have power, and their sacred places disappear. The wild, my dear Grover, is so small now, so shattered, that no god can save it. My realm is gone. That is why I need you to carry a message. You must go back to the council. You must tell the satyrs, and the dryads, and the other spirits of nature, that the great god Pan is dead. Tell them of my passing. Because they must stop waiting for me to save them. I cannot. The only salvation you must make yourself. Each of you must—"

He stopped and frowned at the dodo bird, who had started humming again.

"Dede, what are you doing?" Pan demanded. "Are you singing Kumbaya again?"

Dede looked up innocently and blinked her yellow eyes.

Pan sighed. "Everybody's a cynic. But as I was saying, my dear Grover, each of you must take up my calling."

"But... no!" Grover whimpered.

"Be strong," Pan said. "You have found me. And now you must release me. You must carry on my spirit. It can no longer be carried by a god. It must be taken up by all of you."

Pan looked straight at Percy with his clear blue eyes, and I realized he wasn't just talking about satyrs. He meant everyone everyone.

"Percy Jackson," the god said. "I know what you have seen today. I know your doubts. But I give you this news: when the time comes, you will not be ruled by fear."

He turned to Annabeth. "Daughter of Athena, you will do well. Be careful, though."

He looked at me. "Ariana, you will play a great role, though it may not be the role you imagined."

Then he looked at Tyson. "Master Cyclops, do not despair. Heroes rarely live up to our expectations. But you, Tyson—your name shall live among the Cyclopes for generations. And Miss Rachel Dare..."

Rachel flinched when he said her name. She backed up like she was guilty of something, but Pan only smiled. He raised his hand in a blessing.

"I know you believe you cannot make amends," he said. "But you are just as important as your father."

"I—" Rachel faltered. A tear traced her cheek.

"I know you don't believe this now," Pan said. "But look for opportunities. They will come."

Finally he turned back toward Grover. "My dear satyr," Pan said kindly, "will you carry my message?"

"I—I can't."

"You can," Pan said. "You are the strongest and the bravest. Your heart is true. You have believed in me more than anyone ever has, which is why you must bring the message, and why you must be the first to release me."

"I don't want to."

"I know," the god said. "But my name, Pan... originally it meant rustic. Did you know that? But over the years it has come to mean all. The spirit of the wild must pass to all of you now. You must tell each one you meet: if you would find Pan, take up Pan's spirit. Remake the wild, a little at a time, each in your own corner of the world. You cannot wait for anyone else, even a god, to do that for you."

Grover wiped his eyes. Then slowly he stood. "I've spent my whole life looking for you. Now... I release you."

Pan smiled. "Thank you, dear satyr. My final blessing."

He closed his eyes, and the god dissolved. White mist divided into wisps of energy. It filled the room. A curl of smoke went straight into my mouth, and Grover's and the others. But I think a little more of it went into Grover. The crystals dimmed. The animals gave us a sad look. Dede the dodo sighed. Then they all turned gray and crumbled to dust. The vines withered. And we were alone in a dark cave, with an empty bed.

Percy switched on his flashlight.

Grover took a deep breath.

"Are... are you okay?" I asked him.

He looked older and sadder. He took his cap from me, brushed off the mud, and stuck it firmly on his curly head.

"We should go now," he said, "and tell them. The great god Pan is dead."


	67. 67

Distance was shorter in the Labyrinth. Still, by the time Rachel got us back to Times Square, I felt like we'd pretty much run all the way from New Mexico. We climbed out of the Marriott basement and stood on the sidewalk in the bright summer daylight, squinting at the traffic and crowds.

I couldn't decide which seemed less real—New York or the crystal cave where I'd watched a god die.

Percy led the way into an alley. Then he whistled as loud as he could, five times.

A minute later, Rachel gasped. "They're beautiful!"

A flock of pegasi descended from the sky, swooping between the skyscrapers. Blackjack was in the lead, followed by five of his white friends.

Yo! He spoke in my mind. You lived!

"Yeah," Percy told him. "I'm lucky that way. Listen, we need a ride to camp quick."

That's my specialty! Oh man, you got that Cyclops with you? Yo, Guido! How's your back holding up?

The Pegasus Guido groaned and complained, but eventually he agreed to carry Tyson. Everybody started saddling up—except Rachel.

"Well," she told Percy, "I guess this is it."

Percy nodded uncomfortably. We knew she couldn't go to camp.

"Thanks, Rachel," Percy said. "We couldn't have done it without you."

"I wouldn't have missed it. I mean, except for almost dying, and Pan..." Her voice faltered.

"He said something about your father," Percy remembered. "What did he mean?"

Rachel twisted the strap on her backpack. "My dad... my dad's job. He's kind of a famous businessman."

"You mean... you're rich?"

"Well, yeah."

"So that's how you got the chauffeur to help us? You just said your dad's name and—"

"Yes," Rachel cut him off. "Percy... my dad's a land developer. He flies all over the world, looking for tracts of undeveloped land." She took a shaky breath. "The wild. He—he buys it up. I hate it, but he plows it down and builds ugly subdivisions and shopping centers. And now that I've seen Pan... Pan's death—"

"Hey, you can't blame yourself for that."

"You don't know the worst of it. I—I don't like to talk about my family. I didn't want you to know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," Percy said. "It's cool. Look, Rachel, you did awesome. You led us through the maze. You were so brave. That's the only thing I'm going to judge you on. I don't care what your dad does."

Rachel looked at him gratefully. "Well... if you ever feel like hanging out with a mortal again... you could call me or something."

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Percy said. "I mean... I'd like that."

"My number's not in the book," she said.

"I've got it."

"Still on your hand? No way."

'No. I kinda... memorized it."

Her smile came back slowly, but a lot happier. "See you later, Percy Jackson. Go save the world for me, okay?"

She walked off down Seventh Avenue and disappeared into the crowds.

* * *

Nico was having trouble. His Pegasus kept shying away from him, reluctant to let him mount.

He smells like dead people! The Pegasus complained.

Hey now, Blackjack said. Come on, Porkpie. Lotsa demigods smell weird. It ain't their fault. Oh—uh, I didn't mean you, boss.

"Go without me!" Nico said. "I don't want to go back to that camp anyway."

"Nico," Percy said, "we need your help."

He folded his arms and scowled. Then I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Nico," I said. "Please."

Slowly, his expression softened. "All right," he said reluctantly. "For you. But I'm not staying."

At last we got everybody on a Pegasus. We shot into the air, and soon we were over the East river with Long Island spread out before us.

* * *

We landed in the middle of the cabin area and were immediately met by Chiron, the potbellied satyr Silenus, and a couple of Apollo cabin archers. Chiron raised an eyebrow when he saw Nico, but if I expected him to be surprised by our latest news about Quintus being Daedalus, or Kronos rising, I was mistaken.

"I feared as much," Chiron said. "We must hurry. Hopefully you have slowed down the Titan lord, but his vanguard will still be coming through. They will be anxious for blood. Most of our defenders are already in place. Come!"

"Wait a moment," Silenus demanded. "What of the search for Pan? You are almost three weeks overdue, Grover Underwood! Your searcher's license is revoked!"

Grover took a deep breath. He stood up straight and looked Silenus in the eye. "Searcher's licenses don't matter any more. The great god Pan is dead. He has passed on and left us his spirit."

"What?" Silenus's face turned bright red. "Sacrilege and lies! Grover Underwood, I will have you exiled for speaking thus!"

"It's true," I said. "We were there when he died. All of us."

"Impossible! You are all liars! Nature-destroyers!"

Chiron studied Grover's face. "We will speak of this later."

"We will speak of it now!" Silenus said. "We must deal with this—"

"Silenus," Chiron cut in. "My camp is under attack. The matter of Pan has waited two thousand years. I fear it will have to wait a bit longer. Assuming we are still here this evening."

And on that happy note, he readied his bow and galloped toward the woods, leaving us to follow as best we could.

* * *

It was the biggest military operation I'd ever seen at camp. Everyone was at the clearing, dressed in full battle armor, but this time it wasn't for capture the flag. The Hephaestus cabin had set up traps around the entrance to the Labyrinth—razor wire, pits filled with pots of Greek fire, rows of sharpened sticks to deflect a charge. Beckendorf was manning two catapults the size of pickup trucks, already primed and aimed at Zeus's Fist. The Ares cabin was on the front line, drilling in phalanx formation with Clarisse calling orders. Apollo's and Hermes's cabins were scattered in the woods with bows ready. Many had taken up positions in the trees. Even the dryads were armed with bows, and the satyrs trotted around with wooden cudgels and shields made of rough tree bark.

Annabeth went to join her brethren from the Athena cabin, who had set up a command tent and were directing operations. A gray banner with an owl fluttered outside the tent. Our security chief, Argus, stood guard at the door. Aphrodite's children were running around straightening everybody's armor and offering to comb the tangles out of our horsehair plumes. Even Dionysus's kids had found something to do. The god himself was still nowhere to be seen, but his two blond twin sons were running around providing all the sweaty warriors with water bottles and juice boxes.

It looked like a pretty good setup, but Chiron muttered next to me. "It isn't enough."

My heart sank. Chiron was right, but it was all we could muster. For once I wished Dionysus was here, but even if he had been, I didn't know if he could do anything. When it came to war, gods were forbidden to interfere directly. They allowed me to, since I lived here for most of the year.

Over at the edge of the clearing, Grover was talking to Juniper. She held his hands while he told her our story. Green tears formed in her eyes as he delivered the news about Pan.

Tyson helped the Hephaestus kids prepare the defenses. He picked up boulders and piled them next to the catapults for firing.

"Stay with me, Percy," Chiron said. "When the fighting begins, I want you to wait until we know what we're dealing with. You must go where we most need reinforcements."

"I saw Kronos," Percy said. "I looked straight into his eyes. It was Luke... but it wasn't."

Chiron ran his fingers along his bowstring. "He had golden eyes, I would guess. And in his presence, time seemed to turn to liquid."

Percy nodded. "How could he take over a mortal body?"

"I do not know, Percy. Gods have assumed the shapes of mortals for ages, but to actually become one... to merge the divine form with the mortal. I don't know how this could be done without Luke's form turning into ashes."

"Kronos said his body had been prepared."

"I shudder to think what that means. But perhaps it will limit Kronos's power. For a time, at least, he is confined to a human form. It binds him together. Hopefully it also restricts him."

"Chiron, if he leads the attack—"

"I do not think so, my boy. I would sense if he were drawing near. No doubt he planned to, but I believe you inconvenienced him when you pulled down his throne room on top of him." He looked at him reproachfully. "You and your friend Nico, son of Hades."

"I'm sorry, Chiron. I know I should've told you. It's just—"

Chiron raised his hand. "I understand why you did it, Percy. You felt responsible. You sought to protect him. But, my boy, if we are to survive this war, we must trust each other. We must..."

His voice wavered. The ground underneath us was trembling.

Everyone in the clearing stopped what they were doing. Clarisse barked a single order: "Lock shields!"

Then the Titan lord's army exploded from the Labyrinth.

* * *

The first thing I saw were a dozen Laistrygonian giants erupting from the ground, yelling so loudly my ears felt like bursting. They carried shields made from flattened cars, and clubs that were tree trunks with rusty spikes bristling at the end. One of the giants bellowed at the Ares phalanx, smashed it sideways with his club, and the entire cabin was thrown aside, a dozen warriors tossed to the wind like rag dolls.

"Fire!" Beckendorf yelled. The catapults swung into action. Two boulders hurtled toward the giants. One deflected off a car shield with hardly a dent, but the other caught a Laistrygonian in the chest, and the giant went down. Apollo's archers fired a volley, dozens of arrows sticking in the thick armor of the giants like porcupine quills. Several found chinks in armor, and some of the giants vaporized at the touch of celestial bronze.

But just when it looked like the Laistrygonians were about to get overwhelmed, the next wave surged out of the maze: thirty, maybe forty dracaenae in full battle armor, wielding spears and nets. They dispersed in all directions. Some hit the traps the Hephaestus cabin had laid. One got struck on the spikes and became an easy target for archers. Another triggered a trip wire, and pots of Greek fire exploded into green flames, engulfing several of the snake women. But many more kept coming. Argus and Athena's warriors rushed forward to meet them. I saw Annabeth draw a sword and engage one of them. Nearby, Tyson was riding a giant. Somehow he'd managed to climb onto the giant's back and was hitting him on the head with a bronze shield—BONG! BONG! BONG!

I drew Nikao and ran forward into the fight.

As I raced across the battlefield, I saw horrible things. An enemy half-blood was fighting with a son of Dionysus, but it wasn't much of a contest. The enemy stabbed him in the arm then clubbed him over the head with the butt of his sword, and Dionysus's son went down. Another enemy warrior shot flaming arrows into the trees, sending our archers and dryads into a panic.

A dozen dracaenae suddenly broke away from the main fight and slithered down the path that led toward camp, like they knew where they were going. If they got out, they could burn down the entire place, completely unopposed.

The only person anywhere near was Nico di Angelo. He stabbed a telekhine, and his black Stygian blade absorbed the monster's essence, drinking its energy until there was nothing left but dust.

"Nico!" I yelled.

He looked where I was pointing, saw the serpent women, and immediately understood.

He took a deep breath and held out his black sword. "Serve me," he called.

The earth trembled. A fissure opened in front of the dracaenae, and a dozen undead warriors crawled from the earth—horrible corpses in military uniforms from all different time periods—U.S. Revolutionaries, Roman centurions, Napoleonic cavalry on skeletal horses. As one, they drew their swords and engaged the dracaenae. Nico crumpled to his knees, and I ran to help him. I helped him up and turned to the dracaenae, but they were all being fought by the undead warriors.

Just when it seemed like the battle had balanced out again—like we might stand a chance—an unearthly shriek echoed out of the Labyrinth, a sound I had heard before.

Kampê shot into the sky, her bat wings fully extended. She landed on the top of Zeus's Fist and surveyed the carnage. Her face was filled with evil glee. The mutant animal heads growled at her waist. Snakes hissed and swirled around her legs. In her right hand she held a glittering ball of thread—Ariadne's string—but she popped it into a lion's mouth at her waist and drew her curved swords. The blades glowed green with poison. Kampê screeched in triumph, and some of the campers screamed. Others tried to run and got trampled by hellhounds or giants.

"Di Immortales!" Chiron yelled. He quickly aimed an arrow, but Kampê seemed to sense his presence. She took flight with amazing speed, and Chrion's arrow whizzed harmlessly past her head.

Tyson untangled himself from the giant whom he'd pummeled into unconsciousness. He ran at our lines, shouting, "Stand! Do not run from her! Flight!"

But then a hellhound leaped on him, and Tyson and the hound went rolling away.

Kampê landed on the Athena command tent, smashing it flat. I ran after her and found Percy at my side, keeping pace, his sword in his hand.

"This might be it," I said.

"Could be."

"Nice fighting with you."

"Ditto."

Together we leaped into the monster's path. Kampê hissed and sliced at us. Percy dodged, trying to distract her, while I went in for a strike, but the monster seemed able to fight with both hands independently. She blocked my sword, and I had to jump back to avoid the cloud of poison. Just being near the thing was like standing in an acid fog. My eyes burned. My lungs couldn't get enough air. I knew we couldn't stand our ground for more than a few seconds.

"Come on!" Percy shouted. "We need help!"

But no help came. Everyone was either down, or fighting for their lives, or too scared to move forward. Three of Chiron's arrows sprouted from Kampê's chest, but she just roared louder.

"Now!" I said.

Together we charged, dodged the monster's slashes, got inside her guard, and almost... almost managed to stab Kampê in the chest, but a huge bear's head lashed out from the monster's waist, and we had to stumble backward to avoid getting bitten.

Slam!

My eyesight went black. The next thing I knew, Percy and I were on the ground. The monster had its forelegs on our chests, holding us down. Hundreds of snakes slithered right above me, hissing like laughter. Kampê raised her green-tinged swords, and I knew Percy and I were out of options.

Then, behind me, something howled. A wall of darkness slammed into Kampê, sending the monster sideways. And Mrs. O'Leary was standing over us, snarling and snapping at Kampê.

"Good girl!" said a familiar voice. Daedalus was fighting his way out of the Labyrinth, slashing down enemies left and right as he made his way toward us. Next to him was someone else—a familiar giant, much taller than the Laistrygonians, with a hundred rippling arms, each holding a huge chunk of rock.

"Briares!" Tyson cried in wonder.

"Hail, little brother!" Briares bellowed. "Stand firm!"

And as Mrs. O'Leary leaped out of the way, the Hundred-Handed One launched a volley of boulders at Kampê. The rocks seemed to enlarge as they left Briares's hands. There were so many, it looked like half the earth had learned to fly.

BOOOOOM!

Where Kampê had stood a moment before was a mountain of boulders, almost as tall as Zeus's Fist. The only sign that the monster had ever existed were two green sword points sticking through the cracks.

A cheer went up from the campers, but our enemies weren't done yet. One of the dracaenae yelled, "Ssssslay them! Kill them all or Kronossss will flay you alive!"

Apparently, that threat was more terrifying than we were. The giants surged forward in a last desperate attempt. One surprised Chiron with a glancing blow to the back legs, and he stumbled and fell. Six giants cried in glee and rushed forward.

"No!" I screamed, but I was too far away to help.

Then it happened. Grover opened his mouth, and the most horrible sound I'd ever heard came out. It was like a brass trumpet magnified a thousand times—the sound of pure fear.

As one, the forces of Kronos dropped their weapons and ran for their lives. The giants trampled the dracaenae trying to get into the Labyrinth first. Telekhines and hellhounds and enemy half-bloods scrambled after them. The tunnel rumbled shut, and the battle was over. The clearing was quiet except for the fires burning in the woods, and the cries of the wounded.

I helped Percy to his feet. We ran to Chiron.

"Are you all right?" Percy asked.

He was lying on his side, trying in vain to get up. "How embarrassing," he muttered. "I think I will be fine. Fortunately, we do not shoot centaurs with broken... Ow! ... broken legs."

"You need help," I said. "I'll get a medic from Apollo's cabin. Or, I could heal you."

"No," Chiron insisted. "There are more serious injuries to attend to. Go! I am fine. But, Grover... later we must talk about how you did that."

"That was amazing," Percy agreed.

Grover blushed. "I don't know where it came from."

Juniper hugged him fiercely. "I do!"

Before she could say more, Tyson called, "Percy, come quick! It is Nico!"

* * *

There was smoke curling off his black clothes. His fingers were clenched, and the grass all around his body had turned yellow and died.

Percy rolled him over as gently as he could and put his hand against his chest. "Get some nectar!" Percy yelled.

One of the Ares campers hobbled over and handed him a canteen. Percy trickled some of the magic drink into Nico's mouth. He coughed and spluttered, but his eyelids fluttered open.

"Nico, what happened?" I asked. "Can you talk?"

He nodded weakly. "Never tried to summon so many before. I—I'll be fine."

We helped him sit up and gave him some more nectar. He blinked at all of us, like he was trying to remember who we were, and then he focused on someone behind us.

"Daedalus," he croaked.

"Yes, my boy," the inventor said. "I made a very bad mistake. I came to correct it."

Daedalus had a few scratches that were bleeding golden oil, but he looked better than most of us. Apparently his automaton body healed itself quickly. Mrs. O'Leary loomed behind him, licking the wounds on her master's head so Daedalus's hair stood up funny. Briares stood next to him, surrounded by a group of awed campers and satyrs. He looked kind of bashful, but he was signing autographs on armor, shields, and T-shirts.

"I found the Hundred-Handed One as I came through the maze," Daedalus explained. "It seems he had the same idea, to come help, but he was lost. And so we fell in together. We both came to make amends."

"Yay!" Tyson jumped up and down. "Briares! I knew you would come!"

"I did not know," the Hundred-Handed One said. "But you reminded me who I am, Cyclops. You are the hero."

Tyson blushed. Percy patted him on the back. "I knew that a long time ago," he said. 'But, Daedalus... the Titan army is still down there. Even without the string, they'll be back. They'll find a way sooner or later, with Kronos leading them."

Daedalus sheathed his sword. "You are right. As long as the Labyrinth is here, your enemies can use it. Which is why the Labyrinth cannot continue."

Annabeth stared at him. "But you said the Labyrinth is tied to your life force! As long as you're alive—"

"Yes, my young architect," Daedalus agreed. "When I die, the Labyrinth will die as well. And so I have a present for you."

He slung a leather satchel off his back, unzipped it, and produced a sleek silver laptop computer—one of the ones I'd seen in the workshop. On the lid was the blue symbol Δ.

"My work is here," he said. "It's all I managed to save from the fire. Notes on projects I never started. Some of my favorite designs. I couldn't develop these over the last few millennia. I did not dare reveal my work to the mortal world. But perhaps you will find it interesting."

He handed the computer to Annabeth, who stared at it like it was solid gold. "You're giving me this? But this is priceless! This is worth... I don't even know how much!"

"Small compensation for the way I have acted," Daedalus said. "You were right, Annabeth, about children of Athena. We should be wise, and I was not. Someday you will be a greater architect than I ever was. Take my ideas and improve them. It is the least I can do before I pass on."

"Whoa," Percy said. "Pass on? But you can't just kill yourself. That's wrong."

He shook his head. 'Not as wrong as hiding from my crimes for two thousand years. Genius does not excuse evil, Percy. My time has come. I must face my punishment."

"You won't get a fair trial," I said. "The spirit of Minos sits in judgment—"

"I will take what comes," he said. "And trust in the justice of the Underworld, such as it is. That is all we can do, isn't it?"

He looked straight at Nico, and Nico's face darkened.

"Yes," he said.

"Will you take my soul for ransom, then?" Daedalus asked. "You could use it to reclaim your sister."

"No," Nico said. "I will help you release your spirit. But Bianca has passed. She must stay where she is."

Daedalus nodded. "Well done, son of Hades. You are becoming wise." Then he turned toward Percy. "One last favor, Percy Jackson. I cannot leave Mrs. O'Leary alone. And she has no desire to return to the Underworld. Will you care for her?"

Percy looked at the massive black hound, who whimpered pitifully, still licking Daedalus's hair. He said, "Yeah. Of course I will."

"Then I am ready to see my son... and Perdix," he said. "I must tell them how sorry I am."

Annabeth had tears in her eyes.

Daedalus turned toward Nico, who drew his sword. At first I was afraid Nico would kill the old inventor, but he simply said, "Your time is long since come. Be released and rest."

A smile of relief spread across Daedalus's face. He froze like a statue. His skin turned transparent, revealing the bronze gears and machinery whirring inside his body. Then the statue turned to gray ash and disintegrated.

Mrs. O'Leary howled. I patted her head, trying to comfort her as best I could. The earth rumbled—an earthquake that could probably be felt in every major city across the country—as the ancient Labyrinth collapsed. Somewhere, I hoped, the remains of the Titan's strike force had been buried.

I looked around at the carnage in the clearing, and the weary faces of my friends.

"Come on," I told them. "We have work to do."


	68. 68

There were too many good-byes.

Among the dead, Lee Fletcher from the Apollo cabin had been downed by a giant's club. He was wrapped in a golden shroud without any decoration. The son of Dionysus who'd gone down fighting an enemy half-blood was wrapped in a deep purple shroud embroidered with grapevines. His name was Castor. He'd been seventeen years old. His twin brother, Pollux, tried to say a few words, but he choked up and just took the torch. He lit the funeral pyre in the middle of the amphitheater, and within seconds the row of shrouds was engulfed in fire, sending smoke and sparks up to the stars.

We spent the next day treating the wounded, which was almost everybody. The satyrs and dryads worked to repair the damage to the woods.

At noon, the Council of Cloven Elders held an emergency meeting in their sacred grove. The three senior satyrs were there, along with Chiron, who was in wheelchair form. His broken horse leg was still mending, so he would be confined to the chair for a few months, until the leg was strong enough to take his weight. The grove was filled with satyrs and dryads and naiads up from the water—hundreds of them, anxious to hear what would happen. Juniper, Annabeth, Percy, and stood by Grover's side.

Silenus wanted to exile Grover immediately, but Chiron persuaded him to at least hear evidence first, so we told everyone what had happened in the crystal cavern, and what Pan had said. Then several eyewitnesses from the battle described the weird sound Grover had made, which drove the Titan's army back underground.

"It was panic," insisted Juniper. "Grover summoned the power of the wild god."

"Panic?" Percy asked.

"Percy," Chiron explained, "during the first war of the gods and the Titans, Lord Pan let forth a horrible cry that scared away the enemy armies. It is—it was his greatest power—a massive wave of fear that helped the gods win the day. The word panic is named after Pan, you see. And Grover used that power, calling it forth from within himself."

"Preposterous!" Silenus bellowed. "Sacrilege! Perhaps the wild god favored us with a blessing. Or perhaps Grover's music was so awful it scared the enemy away!"

"That wasn't it, sir," Grover said. He sounded a lot calmer than I would have if I'd been insulted like that. "He let his spirit pass into all of us. We must act. Each of us must work to renew the wild, to protect what's left of it. We must spread the word. Pan is dead. There is no one but us."

"After two thousand years of searching, this is what you would have us believe?" Silenus cried. "Never! We must continue the search! Exile the traitor!"

Some of the older satyrs muttered assent.

"A vote!" Silenus demanded. "Who would believe this ridiculous young satyr, anyway?"

"I would," said a familiar voice.

Everyone turned. Striding into the grove was Dionysus. He wore a formal black suit, so I almost didn't recognize him, a deep purple tie and violet dress shirt, his curly dark hair carefully combed. His eyes were bloodshot as usual, and his pudgy face was flushed, but he looked like he was suffering from grief more than wine-withdrawal.

The satyrs all stood respectfully and bowed as he approached. Dionysus waved his hand, and a new chair grew out of the ground next to Silenus's—a throne made of grapevines.

Dionysus sat down and crossed his legs. He snapped his fingers and satyr hurried forward with a plate of cheese and crackers and a Diet Coke.

The god of wine looked around at the assembled crowd. "Miss me?"

The satyrs fell over themselves nodding and bowing. "Oh, yes, very much, sire!"

"Well, I did not miss this place!" Dionysus snapped. "I bear bad news, my friends. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus, and Nemesis, as well. Zeus knows how many more."

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"Strike that," Dionysus said. "Even Zeus doesn't know. Now, I want to hear Grover's story. Again, from the top."

"But, my lord," Silenus protested. "It's just nonsense!"

Dionysus's eyes flared with purple fire. "I have just learned that my son Castor is dead, Silenus. I am not in a good mood. You would do well to humor me."

Silenus gulped, and waved at Grover to start again.

When Grover was done, Dionysus nodded. "It sounds like just the sort of thing Pan would do. Grover is right. The search is tiresome. You must start thinking for yourselves." He turned to a satyr. "Bring me some peeled grapes, right away!"

"Yes, sire!" The satyr scampered off.

"We must exile the traitor!" Silenus insisted.

"I say no," Dionysus countered. "That is my vote."

"I vote no as well," Chiron put in.

Silenus set his jaw stubbornly. "All in favor of the exile?"

He and the two other old satyrs raised their hands.

"Three to two," Silenus said.

"Ah, yes," Dionysus said. "But unfortunately for you, a god's vote counts twice. And as I voted against, we are tied."

Silenus stood, indignant. "This is an outrage! The council cannot stand at an impasse."

"Then let it be dissolved!" Dionysus said. "I don't care."

Silenus bowed stiffly, along with his two friends, and they left the grove. About twenty satyrs went with them. The rest stood around murmuring uncomfortably.

"Don't worry," Grover told them. "We don't need the council to tell us what to do. We can figure it out ourselves."

He told them again the words of Pan—how they must save the wild a little at a time. He started dividing the satyrs into groups—which ones would go to the national parks, which ones would search out the last wild places, which ones would defend the parks in the big cities.

"Well," Annabeth said to me, "Grover seems to be growing up."

* * *

It felt good to have a regular dinner at camp. I sat at my usual table. The sunset over Long Island Sound was beautiful. Things weren't back to normal by a long shot, but when I went up to the brazier and scraped part of my meal into the flames as an offering to all of the gods, I felt like I really did have a lot to be grateful for. My friends and I were alive. The camp was safe. Kronos had suffered a setback, at least for a while.

The only thing that bothered me was Nico, hanging in the shadows at the edge of the pavilion. He'd been offered a place at the Hermes table, and even at the head table with us, but he had refused.

After dinner, the campers headed toward the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin promised an awesome sing-along to pick up our spirits, but Nico turned and disappeared into the woods. I decided I shouldn't follow him.


	69. 69

The rest of the summer seemed strange because it was so normal. The daily activities continued: archery, rock climbing, Pegasus riding. We played capture the flag (though we all avoided Zeus's Fist). We sang at the campfire and raced chariots and played practical jokes on the other cabins. I spent a lot of time with Annabeth, but I avoided Percy. I didn't want them to fight again.

July passed, with fireworks on the beach on the Fourth. August turned so hot the strawberries started baking in the fields. Finally, the last day of camp arrived.

At ten o'clock I stood on the porch of the Big House. I had already said goodbye to Percy when he left for his mom's house.

Annabeth and I talked before I left for Olympus. She said she'd arranged to stay at camp a little longer. She would tend to Chiron until his leg was fully recovered, and keep studying Deadalus's laptop, which had engrossed her for the last two months. Then she would head back to her father's place in San Francisco.

"There's a private school out there that I'll be going to," she said. "I'll probably hate it, but..." she shrugged.

"Yeah, well, call me, okay?"

"Sure," she said half-heartedly. "I'll keep my eyes open for..."

"Annabeth," I said. "What was the rest of the prophecy?"

She fixed her eyes on the woods in the distance, but she didn't say anything.

"You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze," I remembered. "The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise. We raised a lot of the dead. We saved Ethan Nakamura, who turned out to be a traitor. We raised the spirit of Pan, the lost one."

Annabeth shook her head.

"You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand," I pressed on. "That wasn't Minos. It was Nico. By choosing to be on our side, he saved us. And the child of Athena's final stand—that was Daedalus."

"Ariana—"

"Destroy with a hero's final breath. That makes sense now. Daedalus died to destroy the Labyrinth. But what was the last—"

"And lose a love to worse than death." Annabeth had tears in her eyes. "That was the last line."

The sun seemed colder than it had a moment ago. "Oh," I said. "So Luke—"

"I didn't know who the prophecy was talking about. I—I didn't know if..." She faltered helplessly. "Luke and I—for years, he was the only one who really cared about me. I thought..."

Before she could continue, a sparkle of light appeared next to us, like someone had opened a gold curtain in the air.

"You have nothing to apologize for, my dear." Standing on the hill was a tall woman in a white dress, her dark hair braided over her shoulder.

"Hera," Annabeth said.

The goddess smiled. "You found the answers, as I knew you would. Your quest was a success."

"A success?" Annabeth said. "Luke is gone. Daedalus is dead. Pan is dead. How is that—"

"Our family is safe," Hera insisted. "Those others are better gone, my dear. I am proud of you."

I balled my fists. I couldn't believe she was saying this. "You're the one who paid Geryon to let us through the ranch, weren't you?"

Hera shrugged. Her dress shimmered in rainbow colors. "I wanted to speed you on your way."

"But you didn't care about Nico. You were happy to see him turned over to the Titans."

"Oh, please." Hera waved her hand dismissively. "The son of Hades said it himself. No one wants him around. He does not belong."

"Hephaestus was right," Annabeth growled. "You only care about your perfect family, not real people."

Her eyes turned dangerously bright. "Watch yourself, Annabeth. I guided you and your friends more than you know in the maze. Ariana, my dear, surely you see how I've helped. I would welcome a sacrifice for my efforts."

I stood still as a statue. I could've said thank you. I could've promised to throw some barbecue on the brazier for Hera and forget the whole thing. But I clenched my jaw stubbornly.

"Annabeth is right." I turned my back on the goddess. "You're the one who doesn't belong, Hera. So next time, thanks... but no thanks."

Hera's sneer was worse than an empousa's. Her form began to glow. "You will regret this insult, Ariana. You will regret this very much."

The hilltop was peaceful again. Over at the pine tree, Peleus the dragon dozed under the Golden Fleece as if nothing had happened.

"I'm sorry," Annabeth told me. "I—I should get back. I'll keep in touch."

"Good luck." I said and imagined Olympus.


	70. 70

Connor blew the conch horn to signal the camp that Percy was here.

Connor had a crooked smile that matched his crooked sense of humor. He's a pretty nice guy, but you should always keep one hand on your wallet when he's around, and do not, under any circumstances, give him access to shaving cream unless you want to find your sleeping bag full of it. He's got curly brown hair and is a little shorter than his brother, Travis, which is the only way I can tell them apart.

I ran with all the rest of the campers. I saw Percy standing at the dining pavilion.

Chiron galloped into the pavilion first, which was easy for him since he's a white stallion from the waist down. His beard had grown wilder over the summer.

"Percy!" he said. "Thank the gods. But where..."

Annabeth and I ran in right behind him.

"What happened?" I grabbed his arm. "Is Luke—"

"The ship blew up," Percy said. "He wasn't destroyed. I don't know where—"

Silena Beauregard pushed through the crowd. Her hair wasn't combed and she wasn't even wearing makeup, which wasn't like her.

"Where's Charlie?" she demanded, looking around like he might be hiding.

Percy glanced at Chiron helplessly.

The old centaur cleared his throat. "Silena, my dear, let's talk about this at the Big House—"

"No," she muttered. "No. No."

She started to cry, and the rest of us stood around, too stunned to speak. We'd already lost so many people over the summer, but this was the worst. With Beckendorf gone, it felt like someone had stolen the anchor for the entire camp.

Finally Clarisse from the Ares cabin came forward. She put her arm around Silena. They had one of the strangest friendships ever—a daughter of the war god and a daughter of the love goddess—but ever since Silena had given Clarisse advice last summer about her first boyfriend, Clarisse had decided she was Silena's personal bodyguard.

Clarisse was dressed in her bloodred combat armor, her brown hair tucked into a bandana. She was as big and beefy as a rugby player, with a permanent scowl on her face, but she spoke gently to Silena.

"Come on, girl," she said. "Let's get to the Big House. I'll make you some hot chocolate."

Everyone turned and wandered off in twos and threes, heading back to the cabins. Nobody was excited to see Percy now. Nobody wanted to hear about the blown-up ship.

Only Annabeth, Chiron, and I stayed behind.

I wiped a tear from my cheek. "I'm glad you're not dead, Percy."

"Thanks," Percy said. "Me too."

Chiron put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you did everything you could, Percy. Will you tell us what happened?"

Percy told us the story, including his dream about the Titans.

Chiron gazed down at the valley. "We must call a war council immediately, to discuss this spy, and other matters."

"Poseidon mentioned another threat," Percy said. "Something even bigger than the Princess Andromeda. I thought it might be that challenge the Titan had mentioned in my dream."

Chiron, Annabeth, and I exchanged looks.

"We will discuss that also," Chiron promised.

"One more thing." Percy took a deep breath. "When I talked to my father, he said to tell you it's time. I need to know the full prophecy."

Chiron's shoulders sagged, but he didn't look surprised. "I've dreaded this day. Very well. Annabeth and Ariana, we will show Percy the truth—all of it. Let's go to the attic."

* * *

A ladder led up from the top of the staircase. Chiron and Annabeth didn't bother to come up.

"You know where it is," he told me. "Bring it down, please."

I nodded. "Come on, Percy."

The sun was setting outside, so the attic was even darker and creepier than usual. Old hero trophies were slacked everywhere—dented shields, pickled heads in jars from various monsters, a pair of fuzzy dice on a bronze plaque that read: STOLEN FROM CHRYSAOR'S HONDA CIVIC, BY GUS, SON OF HERMES, 1988.

Percy picked up a curved bronze sword so badly bent it looked like the letter M. I could still see green stains on the metal from the magical poison that used to cover it. The tag was dated last summer. It read: Scimitar of Kampê, destroyed in the Battle of the Labyrinth.

"You remember Briares throwing those boulders?" Percy asked.

I gave him a grudging smile. "And Grover causing a Panic?"

We locked eyes. I thought of a different time last summer, under Mount St. Helens, when I thought Percy was going to die and I kissed him.

I cleared my throat and looked away. "Prophecy."

"Right." Percy put down the scimitar. "Prophecy."

We walked over to the window. On a three-legged stool sat the Oracle—a shriveled female mummy in a tie-dyed dress. Tufts of black hair clung to her skull. Glassy eyes stared out of her leathery face.

If you wanted to leave camp during the summer, it used to be you had to come up here to get a quest. This summer, that rule had been tossed. Campers left all the time on combat missions. We had no choice if we wanted to stop Kronos.

"I never understood this," Percy whispered.

"What?" I asked.

"Why it's a mummy."

"Percy, she didn't used to be a mummy. For thousands of years the spirit of the Oracle lived inside a beautiful maiden. The spirit would be passed on from generation to generation. Chiron told me she was like that fifty years ago." I pointed at the mummy. "But she was the last."

"What happened?"

I started to say something, but then changed my mind. "Let's just do our job and get out of here."

Percy looked nervously at the Oracle's withered face. "So what now?"

I approached the mummy and held out my palms. "O Oracle, the time is at hand. I ask for the Great Prophecy."

I approached and unclasped one of its necklaces. I turned toward Percy, holding a leather pouch. I opened the bag and took out a roll of parchment no bigger than my pinky.

"No way," Percy said. "You mean all these years, I've been asking about this stupid prophecy, and it's been right there around her neck?"

"The time wasn't right." I said.

"Great," Percy said. "Can I read it now?"

"Downstairs at the war council," I said. "Not in front of... you know."

We headed downstairs to join the others.

* * *

The senior counselors had gathered around the Ping-Pong table. Don't ask me why, but the rec room had become the camp's informal headquarters for war councils. When Annabeth, Chiron, Percy, and I came in, though, it looked more like a shouting match.

Clarisse was still in full battle gear. Her electric spear was strapped to her back. (Actually, her second electric spear, since Percy had broken the first one. She called the spear "Maimer." Behind her back, everybody else called it "Lamer.") She had her boar-shaped helmet under one arm and a knife at her belt.

She was in the midst of yelling at Michael Yew, the new head counselor for Apollo, which looked kind of funny since Clarisse was a foot taller. Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer. Michael stood four feet six, with another two feet of attitude. He reminded me of a ferret, with a pointy nose and scrunched-up features—either because he scowled so much or because he spent too much time looking down the shaft of an arrow.

"It's our loot!" he yelled, standing on his tiptoes so he could get in Clarisse's face. "If you don't like it, you can kiss my quiver!"

Around the table, people were trying not to laugh—the Stoll brothers, Pollux from the Dionysus cabin, Katie Gardner from Demeter. Even Jake Mason, the hastily appointed new counselor from Hephaestus, managed a faint smile. Only Silena Beauregard didn't pay any attention. She sat beside Clarisse and stared vacantly at the Ping-Pong net. Her eyes were red and puffy. A cup of hot chocolate sat untouched in front of her. It seemed unfair that she had to be here. I couldn't believe Clarisse and Michael standing over her, arguing about something as stupid as loot, when she'd just lost Beckendorf.

"STOP IT!" I yelled. "What are you guys doing?"

Clarisse glowered at me. "Tell Michael not to be a selfish jerk."

"Oh, that's perfect, coming from you," Michael said.

"The only reason I'm here is to support Silena!" Clarisse shouted. "Otherwise I'd be back in my cabin."

"What are you talking about?" Percy demanded.

Pollux cleared his throat. "Clarisse has refused to speak to any of us, until her, um, issue is resolved. She hasn't spoken for three days."

"It's been wonderful," Travis Stoll said wistfully.

"What issue?" Percy asked.

Clarisse turned to Chiron. "You're in charge, right? Does my cabin get what we want or not?"

Chiron shuffled his hooves. "My dear, as I've already explained, Michael is correct. Apollo's cabin has the best claim. Besides, we have more important matters—"

"Sure," Clarisse snapped. "Always more important matters than what Ares needs. We're just supposed to show up and light when you need us, and not complain!"

"That would be nice," Connor Stoll muttered.

Clarisse gripped her knife. "Maybe I should ask Mr. D—"

"As you know," Chiron interrupted, his tone slightly angry now, "our director, Dionysus, is busy with the war. He can't be bothered with this."

"I see," Clarisse said. "And the senior counselors? Are any of you going to side with me?"

Nobody was smiling now. None of them met Clarisse's eyes.

"Fine." Clarisse turned to Silena. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get into this when you've just lost... Anyway, I apologize. To you. Nobody else."

Silena didn't seem to register her words.

Clarisse threw her knife on the Ping-Pong table. "All of you can fight this war without Ares. Until I get satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger to help. Have fun dying."

The counselors were all too stunned to say anything as Clarisse stormed out of the room.

Finally Michael Yew said, "Good riddance."

"Are you kidding?" Katie Gardner protested. "This is a disaster!"

"She can't be serious," Travis said. "Can she?"

Chiron sighed. "Her pride has been wounded. She'll calm down eventually." But he didn't sound convinced.

"Now," Chiron continued, "if you please, counselors. Percy has brought something I think you should hear. Percy—the Great Prophecy."

I handed Percy the parchment. His fingers fumbled with the string. He uncurled the paper and began to read:

"A half-blood of the eldest dogs..."

"Er, Percy?" Annabeth interrupted. "That's gods. Not dogs."

"Oh, right," Percy said. "A half-blood of the eldest gods... shall reach sixteen against all odds..."

"And see the world in endless sleep,

The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap."

"Percy," Chiron urged. "Read the rest."

"A single choice shall... shall end his days.

Olympus to per—pursue—"

"Preserve," Annabeth said gently. "It means to save."

"I know what it means," Percy grumbled. "Olympus to preserve or raze."

The room was silent. Finally Connor Stoll said, "Raise is good, isn't it?"

"Not raise," Silena said. Her voice was hollow, but I was startled to hear her speak at all. "R-a-z-e means destroy."

"Obliterate," Annabeth said. "Annihilate. Turn to rubble."

"Got it." Percy said. "Thanks."

Everybody was looking at Percy—with concern, or pity, or maybe a little fear.

Chiron closed his eyes as if he were saying a prayer. In horse form, his head almost brushed the lights in the rec room. "You see now, Percy, why we thought it best not to tell you the whole prophecy. You've had enough on your shoulders—"

"Without realizing I was going to die in the end anyway?" Percy said. "Yeah, I get it."

Chiron gazed at him sadly. The guy was three thousand years old. He'd seen hundreds of heroes die. He might not like it, but he was used to it. He probably knew better than to try to reassure Percy.

"Percy," I said. "You know prophecies always have double meanings. It might not literally mean you die."

"Sure," Percy said. "A single choice shall end his days. That has tons of meanings, right?"

"Maybe we can stop it," Jake Mason offered. "The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. Maybe we could find this cursed blade and destroy it. Sounds like Kronos's scythe, right?"

 

"Perhaps we should let Percy think about these lines," Chiron said. "He needs time—"

"No." Percy folded up the prophecy and shoved it into his pocket. "I don't need time. If I die, I die. I can't worry about that, right?"

"Let's move on," Percy said. "We've got other problems. We've got a spy."

Michael Yew scowled. "A spy?"

Percy told us what had happened on the Princess Andromeda—how Kronos had known they were coming, how he'd shown Percy the silver scythe pendant he'd used to communicate with someone at camp.

Silena started to cry again, and Annabeth and I put an arm around her shoulders.

"Well," Connor Stoll said uncomfortably, "we've suspected there might a spy for years, right? Somebody kept passing information to Luke—like the location of the Golden Fleece a couple of years ago. It must be somebody who knew him well."

Maybe subconsciously, he glanced at Annabeth. She'd known Luke better than anyone, of course, but Connor looked away quickly. "Um, I mean, it could be anybody."

"Yes." Katie Gardner frowned at the Stoll brothers. She'd disliked them ever since they'd decorated the grass roof of the Demeter cabin with chocolate Easter bunnies. "Like one of Luke's siblings."

Travis and Connor both started arguing with her.

"Stop!" Silena banged the table so hard her hot chocolate spilled. "Charlie's dead and... and you're all arguing like little kids!" She put her head down and began to sob.

Hot chocolate trickled off the Ping-Pong table. Everybody looked ashamed.

"She's right," Pollux said at last. "Accusing each other doesn't help. We need to keep our eyes open for a silver necklace with a scythe charm. If Kronos had one, the spy probably does too."

Michael Yew grunted. "We need to find this spy before we plan our next operation. Blowing up the Princess Andromeda won't stop Kronos forever."

"No indeed," Chiron said. "In fact his next assault is already on the way."

Percy scowled. "You mean the 'bigger threat' Poseidon mentioned?"

Chiron, Annabeth, and I looked at each other.

"Percy," Chiron said, "we didn't want to tell you until you returned to camp. You needed a break with your... mortal friends."

I blushed.

"Tell me what's happened," Percy said.

Chiron picked up a bronze goblet from the snack table. He tossed water onto the hot plate where we usually melted nacho cheese. Steam billowed up, making a rainbow in the fluorescent lights. Chiron fished a golden drachma out of his pouch, tossed it through the mist, and muttered, "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show us the threat."

The mist shimmered. I saw the familiar image of a smoldering volcano—Mount St. Helens. As I watched, the side of the mountain exploded. Fire, ash, and lava rolled out. A newscaster's voice was saying "—even larger than last year's eruption, and geologists warn that the mountain may not be done."

"It's him," Percy said. "Typhon."

Chiron simply nodded. "The most horrible monster of all, the biggest single threat the gods ever faced. He has been freed from under the mountain at last. But this scene is from two days ago. Here is what is happening today."

Chiron waved his hand and the image changed. I saw a bank of storm clouds rolling across the Midwest plains. Lightning flickered. Lines of tornadoes destroyed everything in their path—ripping up houses and trailers, tossing cars around like Matchbox toys.

"Monumental floods," an announcer was saying. "Five states declared disaster areas as the freak storm system sweeps east, continuing its path of destruction." The cameras zoomed in on a column of storm bearing down on some Midwest city. I couldn't tell which one. Inside the storm I could see the giant—just small glimpses of his true form: a smoky arm, a dark clawed hand the size of a city block. His angry roar rolled across the plains like a nuclear blast. Other smaller forms darted through the clouds, circling the monster. I saw flashes of light, and I realized the giant was trying to swat them. I squinted and thought I saw a golden chariot flying into the blackness. Then some kind of huge bird—a monstrous owl—dived in to attack the giant.

"Are those... the gods?" Percy said.

"Yes, Percy," Chiron said. "They have been fighting him for days now, trying to slow him down. But Typhon is marching forward—toward New York. Toward Olympus."

"How long until he gets here?" Percy asked.

 

"Unless the gods can stop him? Perhaps five days. Most of the Olympians are there... except your father, who has a war of his own to fight and Ariana."

"But then who's guarding Olympus?"

Connor Stoll shook his head. "If Typhon gets to New York, it won't matter who's guarding Olympus."

"It's a trick," Percy said. "We have to warn the gods. Something else is going to happen."

Chiron looked at him gravely. "Something worse than Typhon? I hope not."

"We have to defend Olympus," Percy insisted. "Kronos has another attack planned."

"He did," Travis Stoll reminded him. "But you sunk his ship."

Percy glanced at me. I could tell we were thinking the same thing: What if the Princess Andromeda was a ploy? What if Kronos let us blow up that ship so we'd lower our guard?

"Maybe you're right," Percy said.

I tried to imagine how things could get much worse. The gods were in the Midwest fighting a huge monster that had almost defeated them once before. Poseidon was under siege and losing a war against the sea Titan Oceanus. Kronos was still out there somewhere. Olympus was virtually undefended. The demigods of Camp Half-Blood were on our own with a spy in our midst.

"Well," Chiron said, "I think that's enough for one night."

He waved his hand and the steam dissipated. The stormy battle of Typhon and the gods disappeared.

"That's an understatement," Percy muttered.

And the war council adjourned.


	71. 71

I went to sleep that night and dreamed of nothing.

* * *

I ate a depressing breakfast at the head table.

 

After breakfast, Percy and I walked down to inspect the cabins. Actually, it was my turn for inspection. Percy's morning chore was to sort through reports for Chiron. But since we both hated our jobs, we decided to do them together so it wouldn't be so heinous.

We started at the Poseidon cabin, which was basically just Percy. Percy gave himself a four out of five.

I made a face. "You're being generous." I used the end of my pencil to pick up an old pair of running shorts.

Percy snatched them away. "Hey, give me a break. I don't have Tyson cleaning up after me this summer."

"Three out of five," I said. We moved along.

We visited the Aphrodite cabin, which of course got a five out of five. The beds were perfectly made. The clothes in everyone's footlockers were color coordinated. Fresh flowers bloomed on the windowsills. Percy wanted to dock a point because the whole place reeked of designer perfume, but I ignored him.

"Great job as usual, Silena," I said.

Silena nodded listlessly. The wall behind her bed was decorated with pictures of Beckendorf. She sat on her bunk with a box of chocolates on her lap, and I remembered that her dad owned a chocolate store in the Village, which was how he'd caught the attention of Aphrodite.

"You want a bonbon?" Silena asked. "My dad sent them. He thought—he thought they might cheer me up."

"Are they any good?" Percy asked.

She shook her head. "They taste like cardboard."

Percy tried one. I passed. We promised to see Silena later and kept going.

As we crossed the commons area, a fight broke out between the Ares and Apollo cabins. Some Apollo campers armed with firebombs flew over the Ares cabin in a chariot pulled by two pegasi. Soon, the roof of the Ares cabin was burning, and naiads from the canoe lake rushed over to blow water on it.

Then the Ares campers called down a curse, and all the Apollo kids' arrows turned to rubber. The Apollo kids kept shooting at the Ares kids, but the arrows bounced off.

Two archers ran by, chased by an angry Ares kid who was yelling in poetry: "Curse me, eh? I'll make you pay! I don't want to rhyme all day!"

I sighed. "Not that again. Last time Apollo cursed a cabin, it took a week for the rhyming couplets to wear off."

"What are they fighting about anyway?" Percy asked.

I ignored him while I scribbled on my inspection scroll, giving both cabins a one out of five.

Finally I said, "That flying chariot."

"What?"

"You asked what they were fighting about."

"Oh. Oh, right."

"They captured it in a raid in Philadelphia last week. Some of Luke's demigods were there with that flying chariot. The Apollo cabin seized it during the battle, but the Ares cabin led the raid. So they've been fighting about who gets it ever since."

We ducked as Michael Yew's chariot dive-bombed an Ares camper. The Ares camper tried to stab him and cuss him out in rhyming couplets. He was pretty creative about rhyming those cuss words.

"We're fighting for our lives," Percy said, "and they're bickering about some stupid chariot."

"They'll get over it," I said. "Clarisse will come to her senses."

We inspected a few more cabins. Demeter got a four. Hephaestus got a three and probably should've gotten lower, but with Beckendorf being gone and all, we cut them some slack. Hermes got a two, which was no surprise. All campers who didn't know their godly parentage were shoved into the Hermes cabin, and since the gods were kind of forgetful, that cabin was always overcrowded.

We got to Athena's cabin, which was orderly and clean as usual. Books were straightened on the shelves. The armor was polished. Battle maps and blueprints decorated the walls. I scribbled a 5 on the inspection scroll.

We arrived at my cabin. It was orderly and clean as usual, but my bunk was messy. I had forgotten to make my bed that morning.

"Vlacas," I muttered.

I tried to quickly clean up my bunk.

Technically, even on inspection, it was against camp rules for two campers to be... like, alone in a cabin.

That rule had come up a lot when Silena and Beckendorf started dating. And I know some of you might be thinking, Aren't all demigods related on the godly side, and doesn't that make dating gross? But the thing is, the godly side of your family doesn't count, genetically speaking, since gods don't have DNA. A demigod would never think about dating someone who had the same godly parent. Like two kids from Athena cabin? No way. But a daughter of Aphrodite and a son of Hephaestus? They're not related. So it's no problem.

I threw my pillows on the ground and made my bed. I put the pillows back on my bed, throwing my blanket on top of the comforter.

"You know..." I brushed my hair behind my ear. "This whole thing with Beckendorf and Silena. It kind of makes you think. About... what's important. About losing people who are important."

Percy nodded.

I stared at my inspection scroll. "Three out five," I muttered, "for a messy bunk. Come on. Let's finish your reports and get back to Chiron."

On the way to the Big House, we read the last report, which was handwritten on a maple leaf from a satyr in Canada. If possible, the note made me feel even worse.

"'Dear Grover,'" Percy read aloud. " 'Woods outside Toronto attacked by giant evil badger. Tried to do as you suggested and summon power of Pan. No effect. Many naiads' trees destroyed. Retreating to Ottawa. Please advise. Where are you? —Gleeson Hedge, protector.'"

I grimaced. "You haven't heard anything from him? Even with your empathy link?"

Percy shook his head dejectedly.

Ever since last summer when the god Pan had died, our friend Grover had been drifting farther and farther away. The Council of Cloven Elders treated him like an outcast, but Grover still traveled all over the East Coast, trying to spread the word about Pan and convince nature spirits to protect their own little bits of the wild. He'd only come back to camp a few times to see his girlfriend, Juniper.

Last I'd heard he was in Central Park organizing the dryads, but nobody had seen or heard from him in two months. We'd tried to send Iris-messages. They never got through.

I wondered if he was still in Manhattan.

"Ariana." Percy stopped me by the tetherball court. "Listen, I had this dream about, um, Rachel..."

Percy told me the whole thing, even the weird picture of Luke as a child.

For a while I didn't say anything. Then I rolled up my inspection scroll so tight I ripped it. I felt a weird emotion, for some reason. "What do you want me to say?"

"I'm not sure. If you were Kronos planning this war, what would you do next?"

"I'd use Typhon as a distraction. Then I'd hit Olympus directly, while the gods were in the West."

"Just like in Rachel's picture."

"Percy," I said, my voice tight, "Rachel is just a mortal."

"But what if her dream is true? Those other Titans—they said Olympus would be destroyed in a matter of days. They said they had plenty of other challenges. And what's with that picture of Luke as a kid—"

"We'll just have to be ready."

"How?" Percy said. "Look at our camp. We can't even stop fighting each other. And I'm supposed to get my stupid soul reaped."

I threw down my scroll. "I knew we shouldn't have shown you the prophecy." I felt angry and hurt. "All it did was scare you. You run away from things when you're scared."

Percy stared at me. "Me? Run away?"

I got right in his face. "Yes, you. You're a coward, Percy Jackson!"

We were nose to nose.

"If you don't like our chances," I said, "maybe you should go on that vacation with Rachel."

"Ariana—"

"If you don't like our company."

"That's not fair!"

I pushed past him and stormed toward the strawberry fields. I hit the tetherball as I passed and sent it spinning angrily around the pole.

* * *

That afternoon we had an assembly at the campfire to burn Beckendorf's burial shroud and say our good-byes. Even the Ares and Apollo cabins called a temporary truce to attend.

Beckendorf's shroud was made out of metal links, like chain mail. I didn't see how it would burn, but the Fates must've been helping out. The metal melted in the fire and turned to golden smoke, which rose into the sky. The campfire flames always reflected the campers' moods, and today they burned black.

I hoped Beckendorf's spirit would end up in Elysium. Maybe he'd even choose to be reborn and try for Elysium in three different lifetimes so he could reach the Isles of the Blest, which was like the Underworld's ultimate party headquarters. If anyone deserved it, Beckendorf did.

I left without a word to Percy.


	72. 72

Percy called me. I picked up.

"Hey," Percy said. "You get my message?"

"Percy, where have you been? Your message said almost nothing! We've been worried sick!"

"I'll fill you in later," Percy said. "Where are you?"

"We're on our way like you asked, almost to the Queens—Midtown Tunnel. But, Percy, what are you planning? We've left the camp virtually undefended, and there's no way the gods—"

"Trust me," Percy said. "I'll see you there."

He hung up.

* * *

 

Our three white vans pulled up to the curb.

The first van was driven by Argus, our many-eyed security chief. The other two were driven by harpies, who are basically demonic human/chicken hybrids with bad attitudes. We used the harpies mostly for cleaning the camp, but they did pretty well in midtown traffic too.

The doors slid open. A bunch of campers climbed out, some of them looking a little green from the long drive. I climbed out of the van with everybody else: Pollux, Silena Beauregard, the Stoll brothers, Michael Yew, Jake Mason, Katie Gardner, and Annabeth, along with most of their siblings. Chiron came out of the van last. His horse half was compacted into his magic wheelchair, so he used the handicap lift.

We had forty one campers in all.

Not many to fight a war, but it was still the largest group of half-bloods I'd ever seen gathered in one place outside camp. Everyone looked nervous, and I understood why. We were probably sending out so much demigod aura that every monster in the northeastern United States knew we were here.

As I looked at their faces—all these campers I'd known for so many summers—a nagging voice whispered in my mind: One of them is a spy.

But I couldn't dwell on that.

I went up to Percy. I had all my weapons with me.

I noticed Percy looking at me weirdly. I frowned. "What is it?"

"What's what?" Percy asked.

"You're looking at me funny."

"It's, uh, nothing." He turned to the rest of the group. "Thanks for coming, everybody. Chiron, after you."

Chiron shook his head. "I came to wish you luck, my boy. But I make it a point never to visit Olympus unless I am summoned."

"But you're our leader."

He smiled. "I am your trainer, your teacher. That is not the same as being your leader. I will go gather what allies I can. It may not be too late to convince my brother centaurs to help. Meanwhile, you called the campers here, Percy. You are the leader."

Percy took a deep breath. "Okay, like I told Ariana on the phone, something bad is going to happen by tonight. Some kind of trap. We've got to get an audience with Zeus and convince him to defend the city. Remember, we can't take no for an answer."

Percy asked Argus to watch Mrs. O'Leary, which neither of them looked happy about.

Chiron shook his hand. "You'll do well, Percy. Just remember your strengths and beware your weaknesses."

Percy nodded.

 

"Let's go," Percy told us.

A security guard was sitting behind the desk in the lobby, reading a big black book with a flower on the cover. He glanced up when we all filed in with our weapons and armor clanking. "School group? We're about to close up."

"No," Percy said. "Six-hundredth floor."

He checked us out. His eyes were pale blue and his head was completely bald.

"There is no six-hundredth floor, kid." He said it like it was a required line he didn't believe. "Move along."

I leaned across the desk. "Forty demigods attract an awful lot of monsters. You really want us hanging out in your lobby?"

He thought about that. Then he hit a buzzer and the security gate swung open. "Make it quick."

"You don't want us going through the metal detectors," I added.

"Um, no," he agreed. "Elevator on the right. I guess you know the way."

Percy tossed him a golden drachma and we marched through.

We decided it would take two trips to get everybody up in the elevator. I went with the first group. Different elevator music was playing since my last visit—that old disco song "Stayin' Alive."

I was glad when the elevator doors finally dinged open. In front of us, a path of floating stones led through the clouds up to Mount Olympus, hovering six thousand feet over Manhattan.

I'd seen Olympus millions of times, but it still took my breath away. The mansions glittered gold and white against the sides of the mountain. Gardens bloomed on a hundred terraces. Scented smoke rose from braziers that lined the winding streets. And right at the top of the snow-capped crest rose the main palace of the gods. It looked as majestic as ever, but something seemed wrong. Then I realized the mountain was silent—no music, no voices, no laughter.

I studied Percy. "You look... different," I decided. "Where exactly did you go?"

The elevator doors opened again, and the second group of half-bloods joined us.

"Tell you later," Percy said. "Come on."

We made our way across the sky bridge into the streets of Olympus. The shops were closed. The parks were empty. A couple of Muses sat on a bench strumming flaming lyres, but their hearts didn't seem to be in it. A lone Cyclops swept the street with an uprooted oak tree. A minor godling spotted us from a balcony and ducked inside, closing his shutters.

We passed under a big marble archway with statues of Zeus and Hera on either side. I made a face at the queen of the gods.

"Hate her," I muttered.

"But she's your mother..." Percy said.

"Doesn't matter. Still hate her," I said.

"Look!" Pollux cried, pointing toward the horizon. "What is that?"

We all froze. Blue lights were streaking across the evening sky toward Olympus like tiny comets. They seemed to be coming from all over the city, heading straight toward the mountain. As they got close, they fizzled out. We watched them for several minutes and they didn't seem to do any damage, but still it was strange.

"Like infrared scopes," Michael Yew muttered. "We're being targeted."

"Let's get to the palace," Percy said.

No one was guarding the hall of the gods. The gold-and-silver doors stood wide open. Our footsteps echoed as we walked into the throne room.

Of course, "room" doesn't really cover it. The place was the size of Madison Square Garden. High above, the blue ceiling glittered with constellations. Twelve giant empty thrones stood in a U around a hearth. In one corner, a house-size globe of water hovered in the air, and inside swam my old friend the Ophiotaurus, half-cow, half-serpent.

"Moooo!" he said happily, turning in a circle.

Two years ago we'd spent a lot of time trying to save the Ophiotaurus from the Titans, and I'd gotten kind of fond of him.

"Hey, man," Percy said. "They treating you okay?"

"Mooo," Bessie answered.

We walked toward the thrones, and a woman's voice said, "Hello again, Percy Jackson. You and your friends are welcome."

Hestia stood by the hearth, poking the flames with a stick.

Percy bowed. "Lady Hestia."

Everybody followed his example.

Hestia regarded Percy with her red glowing eyes. "I see you went through with your plan. You bear the curse of Achilles."

The other campers started muttering among themselves: What did she say? What about Achilles?

"You must be careful," Hestia warned him. "You gained much on your journey. But you are still blind to the most important truth. Perhaps a glimpse is in order."

Annabeth nudged him. "Um... what is she talking about?"

I stared into Hestia's eyes. Suddenly, Percy's knees buckled, but I grabbed him. "Percy! What happened?"

"Did... did you see that?" Percy asked.

"See what?"

"How long was I out?" Percy muttered.

Annabeth knit her eyebrows. "Percy, you weren't out at all. You just looked at Hestia for like one second and collapsed."

"Um, Lady Hestia," Percy said, "we've come on urgent business. We need to see—"

"We know what you need," a man's voice said.

A god shimmered into existence next to Hestia. He looked about twenty-five, with curly salt-and-pepper hair and elfish features. He wore a military pilot's flight suit, with tiny bird's wings fluttering on his helmet and his black leather boots. In the crook of his arm was a long staff entwined with two living serpents.

"I will leave you now," Hestia said. She bowed to the aviator and disappeared into smoke. I understood why she was so anxious to go. Hermes, the God of Messengers, did not look happy.

"Hello, Percy." His brow furrowed.

Percy bowed awkwardly. "Lord Hermes."

Oh, sure, one of the snakes said in my mind. Don't say hi to us. We're just reptiles.

George, the other snake scolded. Be polite.

"Hello, George," Percy said. "Hey, Martha."

Did you bring us a rat? George asked.

George, stop it, Martha said. He's busy!

Too busy for rats? George said. That's just sad.

"Um, Hermes," Percy said. "We need to talk to Zeus. It's important."

Hermes's eyes were steely cold. "I am his messenger. May I take a message?"

Behind me, the other demigods shifted restlessly.

"You guys," Percy said. "Why don't you do a sweep of the city? Check the defenses. See who's left in Olympus. Meet Ariana and me back here in thirty minutes."

Silena frowned. "But—"

"That's a good idea," I said. "Connor and Travis, you two lead."

The Stolls seemed to like that—getting handed an important responsibility right in front of their dad. They usually never led anything except toilet paper raids. "We're on it!" Travis said. They herded the others out of the throne room, leaving Percy and me with Hermes.

"Hermes," I said. "Kronos is going to attack New York. You must suspect that. Somebody must have foreseen it."

"Athena," Hermes grumbled. He scratched his back with his caduceus, and George and Martha muttered Ow, ow, ow. "Don't get me started on Athena, Ariana. She's the reason I'm here at all. Zeus didn't want any of us to leave the front line. But your mother kept pestering him nonstop, 'It's a trap, it's a diversion, blah, blah, blah.' She wanted to come back herself, but Zeus was not going to let his number one strategist leave his side while we're battling Typhon. And so naturally he sent me to talk to you."

"But it is a trap!" I insisted. "Is Zeus blind?"

Thunder rolled through the sky.

"I'd watch the comments, Ariana," Hermes warned. "Zeus is not blind or deaf. He has not left Olympus completely undefended."

"But there are these blue lights—"

"Yes, yes. I saw them. Some mischief by that insufferable goddess of magic, Hecate, I'd wager, but you may have noticed they aren't doing any damage. Olympus has strong magical wards. Besides, Aeolus, the King of the Winds, has sent his most powerful minions to guard the citadel. No one save the gods can approach Olympus from the air. They would be knocked out of the sky."

Percy raised his hand. "Um... what about that materializing/teleporting thing you guys do?"

"That's a form of air travel too, Jackson. Very fast, but the wind gods are faster. No, if Kronos wants Olympus, he'll have to march through the entire city with his army and take the elevators! Can you see him doing this?"

"Maybe just a few of you could come back," Percy suggested.

Hermes shook his head impatiently. "Percy Jackson, you don't understand. Typhon is our greatest enemy."

"I thought that was Kronos."

The god's eyes glowed. "No, Percy. In the old days, Olympus was almost overthrown by Typhon. He is husband of Echidna—"

"Met her at the Arch," Percy muttered. "Not nice."

"—and the father of all monsters. We can never forget how close he came to destroying us all; how he humiliated us! We were more powerful back in the old days. Now we can expect no help from Poseidon because he's fighting his own war. Hades sits in his realm and does nothing, and Demeter and Persephone follow his lead. It will take all our remaining power to oppose the storm giant. We can't divide our forces, nor wait until he gets to New York. We have to battle him now. And we're making progress."

"Progress?" Percy said. "He nearly destroyed St. Louis."

"Yes," Hermes admitted. "But he destroyed only half of Kentucky. He's slowing down. Losing power."

In the corner, the Ophiotaurus mooed sadly.

"Please, Hermes," I said. "You said Athena wanted to come. Did she give you any messages for us?"

"Messages," he muttered. "'It'll be a great job,' they told me. 'Not much work. Lots of worshippers.' Hmph. Nobody cares what I have to say. It's always about other people's messages."

Rodents, George mused. I'm in it for the rodents.

Shhh, Martha scolded. We care what Hermes has to say. Don't we, George?

Oh, absolutely. Can we go back to the battle now? I want to do laser mode again. That's fun.

"Quiet, both of you," Hermes grumbled.

Hermes looked at me.

"Bah," Hermes said. "Athena said to warn you that you are on your own. You must hold Manhattan without the help of the gods. As if I didn't know that. Why they pay her to be the wisdom goddess, I'm not sure."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"She said you should try plan twenty-three. She said you would know what that meant."

"Go on."

"Last thing." Hermes looked at Percy. "She said to tell Percy: 'Remember the rivers.' And, um, something about staying away from her daughter."

I'm not sure whose face was redder: Percy's or mine.

"Thank you, Hermes," I said. "And I... I wanted to say... I'm sorry about Luke."

The god's expression hardened like he'd turned to marble. "You should've left that subject alone."

I stepped back nervously. "Sorry?"

"SORRY doesn't cut it!"

George and Martha curled around the caduceus, which shimmered and changed into something that looked suspiciously like a high-voltage cattle prod.

"You should've saved him when you had the chance," Hermes growled at me. "You're the only one who could have."

Percy tried to step between us. "What are you talking about? Ariana didn't—"

"Don't defend her, Jackson!" Hermes turned the cattle prod toward him. "She knows exactly what I'm talking about."

"Maybe you should blame yourself!" Percy said. "Maybe if you hadn't abandoned Luke and his mom!"

Hermes raised his cattle prod. He began to grow until he was ten feet tall.

But as he prepared to strike, George and Martha leaned in close and whispered something in his ear.

Hermes clenched his teeth. He lowered the cattle prod, and it turned back to a staff.

"Percy Jackson," he said, "because you have taken on the curse of Achilles, I must spare you. You are in the hands of the Fates now. But you will never speak to me like that again. You have no idea how much I have sacrificed, how much—"

His voice broke, and he shrank back to human size. "My son, my greatest pride... my poor May..."

He sounded so devastated I didn't know what to say. One minute he was ready to vaporize us. Now he looked like he needed a hug.

"Look, Lord Hermes," Percy said. "I'm sorry, but I need to know. What happened to May? She said something about Luke's fate, and her eyes—"

Hermes glared at him, and his voice faltered. The look on his face wasn't really anger, though. It was pain. Deep, incredible pain.

"I will leave you now," he said tightly. "I have a war to fight."

He began to shine.

Good luck, Percy, Martha the snake whispered.

Hermes glowed with the light of a supernova. Then he was gone.

I sat at the foot of one of the thrones and cried.

"Ariana," Percy said, "it's not your fault. I've never seen Hermes act that way. I guess... I don't know... he probably feels guilty about Luke. He's looking for somebody to blame. I don't know why he lashed out at you. You didn't do anything to deserve that."

I wiped my eyes. I stared at the hearth.

Percy shifted uneasily. "Um, you didn't, right?"

I didn't answer.

"Percy," I said. "What did you mean about Luke's mother? Did you meet her?"

Percy nodded reluctantly. "Nico and I visited her. She was a little . . . different." I described May Castellan, and the weird moment when her eyes had started to glow and she talked about her son's fate."

I frowned. "That doesn't make sense. But why were you visiting—" Suddenly I realized. My eyes widened. "Hermes said you bear the curse of Achilles. Hestia said the same thing. Did you... did you bathe in the River Styx?"

"Don't change the subject."

"Percy! Did you or not?"

"Um... maybe a little."

Percy told mw the story about Hades and Nico, and how he'd defeated an army of the dead.

I shook my head in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

"I had no choice," Percy said. "It's the only way I can stand up to Luke."

"You mean... di immortales, of course! That's why Luke didn't die. He went to the Styx and..."

"The point is he didn't die in the Styx," Percy said. "Neither did I. Now I have to face him. We have to defend Olympus."

I was still studying his face. "I guess you're right. Athena mentioned—"

"Plan twenty-three."

"We probably have to ask Annabeth about that," I said. "She probably has the plan on her laptop."

"Yeah..." Percy said.

"What about her message to you: 'Remember the rivers'? What does that mean?"

Percy shook his head.

Just then the Stoll brothers ran in to the throne room.

"You need to see this," Connor said. "Now."

The blue lights in the sky had stopped, so at first I didn't understand what the problem was.

The other campers had gathered in a small park at the edge of the mountain. They were clustered at the guardrail, looking down at Manhattan. The railing was lined with those tourist binoculars, where you could deposit one golden drachma and see the city. Campers were using every single one.

I looked down at the city. I could see almost everything from here—the East River and the Hudson River carving the shape of Manhattan, the grid of streets, the lights of skyscrapers, the dark stretch of Central Park in the north. Everything looked normal, but something was wrong. I felt it in my bones before I realized what it was.

"I don't... hear anything," Annabeth said.

That was the problem.

Even from this height, I should've heard the noise of the city—millions of people bustling around, thousands of cars and machines—the hum of a huge metropolis. You don't think about it when you live in New York, but it's always there. Even in the dead of night, New York is never silent.

But it was now.

"What did they do?" Percy's voice sounded tight and angry. "What did they do to my city?"

Percy pushed Michael Yew away from the binoculars and took a look.

In the streets below, traffic had stopped. Pedestrians were lying on the sidewalks, or curled up in doorways. There was no sign of violence, no wrecks, nothing like that. It was as if all the people in New York had simply decided to stop whatever they were doing and pass out.

"Are they dead?" Silena asked in astonishment.

Ice coated my stomach. A line from the prophecy rang in my ears: And see the world in endless sleep.

"Not dead," Percy said. "Morpheus has put the entire island of Manhattan to sleep. The invasion has started."


	73. 73

Mrs. O'Leary was the only one happy about the sleeping city.

We found her pigging out at an overturned hot dog stand while the owner was curled up on the sidewalk, sucking his thumb.

Argus was waiting for us with his hundred eyes wide open. He didn't say anything. He never does. I guess that's because he supposedly has an eyeball on his tongue. But his face made it clear he was freaking out.

Percy told him and Annabeth what we'd learned in Olympus, and how the gods would not be riding to the rescue. Argus rolled his eyes in disgust, which looked pretty psychedelic since it made his whole body swirl.

"You'd better get back to camp," Percy told him. "Guard it as best you can."

He pointed at him and raised his eyebrow quizzically.

"I'm staying," Percy said.

Argus nodded, like this answer satisfied him. He looked at Annabeth and drew a circle in the air with his finger.

"Yes," Annabeth agreed. "I think it's time."

"For what?" I asked.

Argus rummaged around in the back of his van. He brought out a bronze shield and passed it to Annabeth. It looked pretty much standard issue—the same kind of round shield we always used in capture the flag. But when Annabeth set it on the ground, the reflection on the polished metal changed from sky and buildings to the Statue of Liberty—which wasn't anywhere close to us.

"Whoa," Percy said. "A video shield."

"One of Daedalus's ideas," Annabeth said. "I had Beckendorf make this before—" She glanced at Silena. "Um, anyway, the shield bends sunlight or moonlight from anywhere in the world to create a reflection. You can literally see any target under the sun or moon, as long as natural light is touching it. Look."

We crowded around as Annabeth concentrated. The image zoomed and spun at first, so I got motion sickness just watching it. We were in the Central Park Zoo, then zooming down East 60th, past Bloomingdale's, then turning on Third Avenue.

"Whoa," Connor Stoll said. "Back up. Zoom in right there."

"What?" Annabeth said nervously. "You see invaders?"

"No, right there—Dylan's Candy Bar." Connor grinned at his brother. "Dude, it's open. And everyone is asleep. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Connor!" Katie Gardner scolded. "This is serious. You are not going to loot a candy store in the middle of a war!"

"Sorry," Connor muttered, but he didn't sound very ashamed.

Annabeth passed her hand in front of the shield, and another scene popped up: FDR Drive, looking across the river at Lighthouse Park.

"This will let us see what's going on across the city," she said. "Thank you, Argus. Hopefully we'll see you back at camp... someday."

Argus grunted. He gave me a look that clearly meant Good luck; you'll need it, then climbed into his van. He and the two harpy drivers swerved away, weaving around clusters of idle cars that littered the road.

Percy whistled for Mrs. O'Leary, and she came bounding over.

"Hey, girl," he said. "You remember Grover? The satyr we met in the park?"

"WOOF!"

"I need you to find him," he said. "Make sure he's still awake. We're going to need his help. You got that? Find Grover!"

Mrs. O'Leary gave him a sloppy wet kiss, which seemed kind of unnecessary. Then she raced off north.

Pollux crouched next to a sleeping policeman. "I don't get it. Why didn't we fall asleep too? Why just the mortals?"

"This is a huge spell," Silena Beauregard said. "The bigger the spell, the easier it is to resist. If you want to sleep millions of mortals, you've got to cast a very thin layer of magic. Sleeping demigods and gods is much harder."

Percy stared at her. "When did you learn so much about magic?"

Silena blushed. "I don't spend all my time on my wardrobe."

"Percy and Ariana," Annabeth called. She was still looking at the shield. "You'd better see this."

The bronze image showed Long Island Sound near La Guardia. A fleet of a dozen speedboats raced through the dark water toward Manhattan. Each boat was packed with demigods in full Greek armor. At the back of the lead boat, a purple banner emblazoned with a black scythe flapped in the night wind. I'd never seen that design before, but it wasn't hard to figure out: the battle flag of Kronos.

"Scan the perimeter of the island," Percy said. "Quick."

Annabeth shifted the scene south to the harbor. A Staten Island Ferry was plowing through the waves near Ellis Island. The deck was crowded with dracaenae and a whole pack of hellhounds. Swimming in front of the ship was a pod of marine mammals. At first I thought they were dolphins. Then I saw their doglike faces and the swords strapped to their waists, and I realized they were telkhines—sea demons.

The scene shifted again: the Jersey shore, right at the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel. A hundred assorted monsters were marching past the lanes of stopped traffic: giants with clubs, rogue Cyclopes, a few fire-spitting dragons, and just to rub it in, a World War II-era Sherman tank, pushing cars out of its way as it rumbled into the tunnel.

"What's happening with the mortals outside Manhattan?" Percy said. "Is the whole state asleep?"

Annabeth frowned. "I don't think so, but it's strange. As far as I can tell from these pictures, Manhattan is totally asleep. Then there's like a fifty-mile radius around the island where time is running really, really slow. The closer you get to Manhattan, the slower it is."

She showed us another scene—a New Jersey highway. It was Saturday evening, so the traffic wasn't as bad as it might've been on a weekday. The drivers looked awake, but the cars were moving at about one mile per hour. Birds flew overhead in slow motion.

"Kronos," I said. "He's slowing time."

"Hecate might be helping," Katie Gardner said. "Look how the cars are all veering away from the Manhattan exits, like they're getting a subconscious message to turn back."

"I don't know." Annabeth sounded really frustrated. She hated not knowing. "But somehow they've surrounded Manhattan in layers of magic. The outside world might not even realize something is wrong. Any mortals coming toward Manhattan will slow down so much they won't know what's happening."

"Like flies in amber," Jake Mason murmured.

Annabeth nodded. "We shouldn't expect any help coming in."

Everybody looked stunned and scared, and I couldn't blame them. The shield had shown us at least three hundred enemies on the way. There were forty one of us. And we were alone.

"All right," Percy said. "We're going to hold Manhattan."

Silena tugged at her armor. "Um, Percy, Manhattan is huge."

"We are going to hold it," Percy said. "We have to."

"He's right," I said. "The gods of the wind should keep Kronos's forces away from Olympus by air, so he'll try a ground assault. We have to cut off the entrances to the island."

"They have boats," Michael Yew pointed out.

"I'll take care of the boats," Percy said.

Michael frowned. "How?"

"Just leave it to me," Percy said. "We need to guard the bridges and tunnels. Let's assume they'll try a midtown or downtown assault, at least on their first try. That would be the most direct way to the Empire State Building. Michael, take Apollo's cabin to the Williamsburg Bridge. Katie, Demeter's cabin takes the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel. Grow thorn bushes and poison ivy in the tunnel. Do whatever you have to do, but keep them out of there! Conner, take half of Hermes cabin and cover the Manhattan Bridge. Travis, you take the other half and cover the Brooklyn Bridge. And no stopping for looting or pillaging!"

"Awwww!" the whole Hermes cabin complained.

"Silena, take the Aphrodite crew to the Queens-Midtown Tunnel."

"Oh my gods," one of her sisters said. "Fifth Avenue is so on our way! We could accessorize, and monsters, like, totally hate the smell of Givenchy."

"No delays," Percy said. "Well... the perfume thing, if you think it'll work."

Six Aphrodite girls kissed him on the cheek in excitement.

"All right, enough!" Percy closed his eyes. "The Holland Tunnel. Jake, take the Hephaestus cabin there. Use Greek fire, set traps. Whatever you've got."

He grinned. "Gladly. We've got a score to settle. For Beckendorf!"

The whole cabin roared in approval.

"The 59th Street Bridge," Percy said. "Clarisse—"

Clarisse wasn't here. The whole Ares cabin, curse them, was sitting back at camp.

"We'll take that," Annabeth stepped in. She turned to her siblings. "I'll take them and activate plan twenty-three along the way, just like I showed you. Hold that position."

"You got it."

"I'll go with Percy," I said. "Then we'll join you, or we'll go wherever we're needed."

Somebody in the back of the group said, "No detours, you two."

There were some giggles.

"All right," Percy said. "Keep in touch with cell phones."

"We don't have cell phones," Silena protested.

Percy reached down, picked up some snoring lady's BlackBerry, and tossed it to Silena. "You do now. You all know Ariana's number, right? If you need us, pick up a random phone and call us. Use it once, drop it, then borrow another one if you have to. That should make it harder for the monsters to zero in on you."

Everyone grinned as though they liked this idea.

Travis cleared his throat. "Uh, if we find a really nice phone—"

"No, you can't keep it," Percy said.

"Aw, man."

"Hold it, Percy," Jake Mason said. "You forgot the Lincoln Tunnel."

I bit back a curse. He was right. A Sherman tank and a hundred monsters were marching through that tunnel right now.

Then a girl's voice called from across the street: "How about you leave that to us?"

I'd never been happier to hear anyone in my life. A band of thirty adolescent girls crossed Fifth Avenue. They wore white shirts, silvery camouflage pants, and combat boots. They all had swords at their sides, quivers on their backs, and bows at the ready. A pack of white timber wolves milled around their feet, and many of the girls had hunting falcons on their arms.

The girl in the lead had spiky black hair and a black leather jacket. She wore a silver circlet on her head like a princess's tiara, which didn't match her skull earrings or her Death to Barbie T-shirt showing a little Barbie doll with an arrow through its head.

"Thalia!" Annabeth cried.

The daughter of Zeus grinned. "The Hunters of Artemis, reporting for duty."

There were hugs and greetings all around... or at least Thalia was friendly. The other Hunters didn't like being around campers, especially boys, but they didn't shoot any of us, which for them was a pretty warm welcome.

"Where have you been the last year?" Percy asked Thalia. "You've got like twice as many Hunters now!"

She laughed. "Long, long story. I bet my adventures were more dangerous than yours, Jackson."

"Complete lie," Percy said.

"We'll see," she promised. "After this is over, you, Ariana, Annabeth, and me: cheeseburgers and fries at that hotel on West 57th."

"Le Parker Meridien," Percy said. "You're on. And Thalia, thanks."

She shrugged. "Those monsters won't know what hit them. Hunters, move out!"

She slapped her silver bracelet, and the shield Aegis spiraled into full form. The golden head of Medusa molded in the center was so horrible, the campers all backed away. The Hunters took off down the avenue, followed by their wolves and falcons, and I had a feeling the Lincoln Tunnel would be safe for now.

"Thank the gods," I said. "But if we don't blockade the rivers from those boats, guarding the bridges and tunnels will be pointless."

"You're right," Percy said.

I looked at the campers, all of them grim and determined. I tried not to feel like this was the last time I'd ever see them all together.

"You're the greatest heroes of this millennium," Percy told them. "It doesn't matter how many monsters come at you. Fight bravely, and we will win." He raised Riptide and shouted, "FOR OLYMPUS!"

We shouted in response, and our forty one voices echoed off the buildings of Midtown. For a moment it sounded brave, but it died quickly in the silence of ten million sleeping New Yorkers.

Percy and I would've had our pick of cars, but they were all wedged in bumper-to-bumper traffic. None of the engines were running, which was weird. It seemed the drivers had had time to turn off the ignition before they got too sleepy. Or maybe Morpheus had the power to put engines to sleep as well. Most of the drivers had apparently tried to pull to the curb when they felt themselves passing out, but still the streets were too clogged to navigate.

Finally we found an unconscious courier leaning against a brick wall, still straddling his red Vespa. We dragged him off the scooter and laid him on the sidewalk.

"Sorry, dude," Percy said.

Percy drove with me behind him holding on to his waist. We zigzagged down Broadway with our engine buzzing through the eerie calm. The only sounds were occasional cell phones ringing—like they were calling out to each other, as if New York had turned into a giant electronic aviary.

Our progress was slow. Every so often we'd come across pedestrians who'd fallen asleep right in front of a car, and we'd move them just to be safe. Once we stopped to extinguish a pretzel vendor's cart that had caught on fire. A few minutes later we had to rescue a baby carriage that was rolling aimlessly down the street. It turned out there was no baby in it—just somebody's sleeping poodle. Go figure. We parked it safely in a doorway and kept riding.

We were passing Madison Square Park when I noticed a statue Annabeth had showed me. I said, "Pull over."

Percy stopped in the middle of East 23rd. I jumped off and ran toward the park.

The dude was sitting in a chair with his legs crossed. He wore an old-fashioned suit—Abraham Lincoln style—with a bow tie and long coattails and stuff. A bunch of bronze books were piled under his chair. He held a writing quill in one hand and a big metal sheet of parchment in the other.

"Why do we care about..." Percy squinted at the name on the pedestal. "William H. Steward?"

"Seward," I corrected. "He was a New York governor. Minor demigod—son of Hebe, I think. But that's not important. It's the statue I care about."

I climbed on a park bench and examined the base of the statue.

"Don't tell me he's an automaton," Percy said.

I smiled. "Turns out most of the statues in the city are automatons. Daedalus planted them here just in case he needed an army."

"To attack Olympus or defend it?"

I shrugged. "Either one. Annabeth told me he could activate one statue and it would start activating its brethren all over the city, until there was an army. I guess that was plan twenty-three."

"You're seriously thinking about activating it?" Percy asked.

"I think Annabeth told me," I said. "I think I can... Ah, here we go."

I pressed the tip of Seward's boot, and the statue stood up, its quill and paper ready.

"What's he going to do?" Percy muttered. "Take a memo?"

"Shh," I said. "Hello, William."

"Bill," Percy suggested.

"Bill... Oh, shut up," I told Percy. The statue tilted its head, looking at us with blank metal eyes.

I cleared my throat. "Hello, er, Governor Seward. Command sequence: Daedalus Twenty-three. Defend Manhattan. Begin Activation."

Seward jumped off his pedestal. He hit the ground so hard his shoes cracked the sidewalk. Then he went clanking off toward the east.

"He's probably going to wake up another statue," I guessed.

"How do you know that?" Percy asked.

"Annabeth told me they'll keep waking each other up until they're all activated."

"And then?"

"Hopefully, they defend Manhattan."

"Do they know that we're not the enemy?"

"I think so."

"That's reassuring."

Then a ball of green light exploded in the evening sky. Greek fire, somewhere over the East River.

"We have to hurry," Percy said. And we ran for the Vespa.

We parked outside Battery Park, at the lower tip of Manhattan where the Hudson and East Rivers came together and emptied into the bay.

"Wait here," Percy told me.

"Percy, you shouldn't go alone."

"I want you to stay safe."

I sighed. "Fine, whatever."

"Trust me, I'll be fine. I've got the curse of Achilles now. I'll all invincible and stuff."

"Just be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you. I mean, because we need you for the battle." I said.

Percy grinned. "Back in a flash."

He clambered down the shoreline and waded into the water.

* * *

I was talking on my cell phone to Michael Yew. I hung up as soon as I saw Percy.

"It worked," Percy told me. "The rivers are safe."

"Good," I said. "Because we've got other problems. Michael Yew just called. Another army is marching over the Williamsburg Bridge. The Apollo cabin needs help. And Percy, the monster leading the enemy... it's the Minotaur."


	74. 74

Fortunately, Blackjack was on duty.

Percy did a taxicab whistle, and within a few minutes two dark shapes circled out of the sky. They looked like hawks at first, but as they descended I could make out the long galloping legs of pegasi.

Yo. Blackjack landed at a trot, his friend Porkpie right behind him. Man, I thought those wind gods were gonna knock us to Pennsylvania until we said we were with you!

"Thanks for coming," Percy told him. "Hey, why do pegasi gallop as they fly, anyway?"

Blackjack whinnied. Why do humans swing their arms as they walk? I dunno. It just feels right. Where to?

"We need to get to the Williamsburg Bridge," Percy said.

Blackjack lowered his neck. You're darn right. We flew over it on the way here, and it don't look good. Hop on!

On the way to the bridge, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach.

We saw the battle before we were close enough to make out individual fighters. It was well after midnight now, but the bridge blazed with light. Cars were burning. Arcs of fire streamed in both directions as flaming arrows and spears sailed through the air.

We came in for a low pass, and I saw the Apollo campers retreating. They would hide behind cars and snipe at the approaching army, setting off explosive arrows and dropping caltrops in the road, building fiery barricades wherever they could, dragging sleeping drivers out of their cars to get them out of harm's way. But the enemy kept advancing. An entire phalanx of dracaenae marched in the lead, their shields locked together, spear tips bristling over the top. An occasional arrow would connect with their snaky trunks, or a neck, or a chink in their armor, and the unlucky snake woman would disintegrate, but most of the Apollo arrows glanced harmlessly off their shield wall. About a hundred more monsters marched behind them.

Hellhounds leaped ahead of the line from time to time. Most were destroyed with arrows, but one got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn't see what happened to him next. I didn't want to know. Finally, I spotted the Minotaur.

"There!" I called from the back of my pegasus.

From the waist down, he wore standard Greek battle gear—a kiltlike apron of leather and metal flaps, bronze greaves covering his legs, and tightly wrapped leather sandals. His top was all bull—hair and hide and muscle leading to a head so large he should've toppled over just from the weight of his horns. A double-bladed axe was strapped to his back, but he was too impatient to use it. As soon as he saw Percy circling overhead (or sniffed him, more likely, since his eyesight was bad), he bellowed and picked up a white limousine.

"Blackjack, dive!" Percy yelled.

What? The pegasus asked. No way could he... Holy horse feed!

We were at least a hundred feet up, but the limo came sailing toward us, flipping fender over fender like a two-ton boomerang. Porkpie and I swerved madly to the left, while Blackjack tucked in his wings and plunged. The limo cleared the suspension lines of the bridge and fell toward the East River.

Monsters jeered and shouted, and the Minotaur picked up another car.

"Drop us behind the lines with the Apollo cabin," Percy told Blackjack. "Stay in earshot but get out of danger!"

I ain't gonna argue!

Blackjack and Porkpie swooped down behind an overturned school bus, where a couple of campers were hiding. Percy and I leaped off as soon as our pegasi's hooves touched the pavement. Then Blackjack and Porkpie soared into the night sky.

Michael Yew ran up to us. He was definitely the shortest commando I'd ever seen. He had a bandaged cut on his arm. His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time.

"Glad you could join us," he said. "Where are the other reinforcements?"

"For now, we're it," Percy said.

"Then we're dead," he said.

"You still have your flying chariot?" I asked.

"Nah," Michael said. "Left it at camp. I told Clarisse she could have it. Whatever, you know? Not worth fighting about anymore. But she said it was too late. We'd insulted her honor for the last time or some stupid thing."

"Least you tried," Percy said.

Michael shrugged. "Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn't fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!"

He drew an arrow and launched it toward the enemy. The arrow made a screaming sound as it flew. When it landed, it unleashed a blast like a power chord on an electric guitar magnified through the world's largest speakers. The nearest cars exploded. Monsters dropped their weapons and clasped their ears in pain. Some ran. Others disintegrated on the spot.

"That was my last sonic arrow," Michael said.

"A gift from your dad?" I asked. "God of music?"

Michael grinned wickedly. "Loud music can be bad for you. Unfortunately, it doesn't always kill."

Sure enough, most monsters were regrouping, shaking off their confusion.

"We have to fall back," Michael said. "I've got Kayla and Austin setting traps farther down the bridge."

"No," Percy said. "Bring your campers forward to this position and wait for my signal. We're going to drive the enemy back to Brooklyn."

Michael laughed. "How do you plan to do that?"

Percy drew his sword.

"Percy," I said, "let me come with you."

"Too dangerous," he said. "Besides, I need you to help Michael coordinate the defensive line. I'll distract the monsters. You group up here. Move the sleeping mortals out of the way. Then you can start picking off monsters while I keep them focused on me. If anybody can do all that, you can."

Michael snorted. "Thanks a lot."

Percy kept his eyes on me.

I nodded reluctantly. "All right. Get moving."

Percy said, "Don't I get a kiss for luck? It's kind of a tradition, right?"

I drew Kairos and stared at the army marching toward us. "Come back alive. Then we'll see."

Percy stepped out from behind the school bus.

I went with Michael. A few dracaenae threw flaming javelins at me. I knocked them aside and killed them.

The Apollo campers were shooting arrows, disrupting every attempt by the enemy to rally. Finally, the monsters turned and fled—about twenty left alive out of two hundred.

Percy followed with me and the Apollo campers at his heels.

"Yes!" yelled Michael Yew. "That's what I'm talking about!"

We drove them back toward the Brooklyn side of the bridge. The sky was growing pale in the east. I could see the toll stations ahead.

"Percy!" I yelled. "You've already routed them. Pull back! We're overextended!"

I saw the crowd at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters were running straight toward their reinforcements. It was a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armor, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them held a purple banner with the black scythe design.

The lead horseman trotted forward. He took off his helm, and I recognized Kronos himself, his eyes like molten gold.

The Apollo campers and I faltered. The monsters we'd been pursuing reached the Titan's line and were absorbed into the new force. Kronos gazed in our direction. He was a quarter mile away, but I swear I could see him smile.

"Now," Percy said, "we pull back."

The Titan lord's men drew their swords and charged. The hooves of their skeletal horses thundered against the pavement. Our archers shot a volley, bringing down several of the enemy, but they just kept riding.

"Retreat!" Percy told us. "I'll hold them.'"

In a matter of seconds they were on him.

Michael and his archers tried to retreat, but I stayed right beside Percy, fighting with Kairos as we slowly backed up the bridge.

Kronos's cavalry swirled around us, slashing and yelling insults. The Titan himself advanced leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Being the lord of time, I guess he did.

I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren't monsters. They were demigods who'd fallen under Kronos's spell. I couldn't see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had probably been my friends. I slashed the legs off their horses and made the skeletal mounts disintegrate.

Percy and I stayed shoulder to shoulder, facing opposite directions. A dark shape passed over me, and I dared to glance up. Blackjack and Porkpie were swooping in, kicking our enemies in the helmets and flying away like very large kamikaze pigeons.

I saw one demigod try to stab Percy with a knife. I intercepted the knife with my body. I cried out in pain.

"Ariana!" Percy turned in time to see me fall, clutching my arm.

Percy locked eyes with the enemy demigod. Percy slammed him in the face with his sword hilt so hard he dented his helm.

"Get back!" Percy slashed the air in a wide arc, driving the rest of the demigods away from me. "No one touches her!"

"Interesting," Kronos said.

He towered above Percy on his skeletal horse, his scythe in one hand. He studied the scene with narrowed eyes.

"Bravely fought, Percy Jackson," he said. "But it's time to surrender... or the girl dies."

"Percy, don't," I groaned. My shirt was soaked with ichor.

"Blackjack!" Percy yelled.

As fast as light, the pegasus swooped down and clamped his teeth on the straps of my armor. We soared away over the river before the enemy could even react.

Blackjack flew away and I passed out.


	75. 75

I woke up, laying on a lounge chair. Even though I was covered in blankets, I shivered. Silena Beauregard was wiping my forehead with a cool cloth. Annabeth stood by my lounge chair and held my hand.

Will and Percy pushed through a crowd of campers. Will unwrapped my bandages to examine the wound. The bleeding had stopped but the gash looked deep. The skin around the cut was a horrible shade of green.

"Ariana..." Percy choked up.

"Poison on the dagger," I mumbled. "Pretty stupid of me, huh?"

Annabeth let go of my hand.

Will Solace exhaled with relief. "It's not so bad, Ariana. A few more minutes and we would've been in trouble, but the venom hasn't gotten past the shoulder yet. Just lie still. Somebody hand me some nectar."

Percy grabbed a canteen. Will cleaned out the wound with the godly drink while Percy held my other hand.

"Ow," I said. "Ow, ow!" I gripped his fingers so tight they turned purple, but I stayed still, like Will asked. Silena and Annabeth muttered words of encouragement. Will put some silver paste over the wound and hummed words in Ancient Greek—a hymn to Apollo. Then he applied fresh bandages and stood up shakily.

The healing must've taken a lot of his energy.

"That should do it," he said. "But we're going to need some mortal supplies."

He grabbed a piece of hotel stationery, jotted down some notes, and handed it to one of the Athena guys. "There's a Duane Reade on Fifth. Normally I would never steal—"

"I would," Travis volunteered.

Will glared at him. "Leave cash or drachmas to pay, whatever you've got, but this is an emergency. I've got a feeling we're going to have a lot more people to treat."

Nobody disagreed. There was hardly a single demigod who hadn't already been wounded... except Percy.

"Come on, guys," Travis Stoll said. "Let's give Ariana some space. We've got a drugstore to raid... I mean, visit."

The demigods shuffled back inside. Jake Mason grabbed Percy's shoulder as he was leaving. "We'll talk later, but it's under control. I'm using Annabeth's shield to keep an eye on things. The enemy withdrew at sunrise; not sure why. We've got a lookout at each bridge and tunnel."

"Thanks, man," Percy said.

He nodded. "Just take your time."

He closed the terrace doors behind him, leaving Silena, Annabeth, Percy, and me alone.

Silena pressed a cool cloth to my forehead. "This is all my fault."

"No," I said weakly.

"Silena, how is it your fault?" Annabeth asked.

"I've never been any good at camp," she murmured. "Not like you or Percy or Ariana. If I was a better fighter ..."

Her mouth trembled. Ever since Beckendorf died she'd been getting worse. Her expression reminded me of glass—like she might break any minute. I swore to myself that if I ever found the spy who'd cost her boyfriend his life, I would give him to Mrs. O'Leary as a chew toy.

"You're a great camper," Percy told Silena. "You're the best pegasus rider we have. And you get along with people. Believe me, anyone who can make friends with Clarisse has talent."

"That's it! We need the Ares cabin. I can talk to Clarisse. I know I can convince her to help us." Silena said.

"Whoa, Silena. Even if you could get off the island, Clarisse is pretty stubborn. Once she gets angry—"

"Please," Silena said. "I can take a pegasus. I know I can make it back to camp. Let me try."

I exchanged looks with Percy. I nodded slightly.

"All right," Percy told her. "I can't think of anybody better to try."

Silena threw her arms around him. Then she pushed back awkwardly, glancing at me. "Um, sorry. Thank you, Percy! I won't let you down!"

Silena left the room quickly.

"I should go with Jake and keep an eye on things." Annabeth murmured. She took my hand and squeezed it. I smiled weakly at her.

Once they were gone, Percy knelt next to me and felt my forehead.

"You're cute when you're worried," I muttered. "Your eyebrows get all scrunched together."

"You are not going to die while I owe you a favor," Percy said. "Why did you take that knife?"

"You would've done the same for me."

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

Percy looked around then leaned in close and whispered: "My Achilles spot. If you hadn't taken that knife, I would've died."

"I don't know, Percy. I just had this feeling you were in danger. Where... where is the spot?"

"The small of my back."

I lifted my hand. "Where? Here?"

I put my hand on his spine. He moved my fingers to the one spot that grounded him to his mortal life.

"You saved me," Percy said. "Thanks."

I removed my hand, but Percy kept holding it.

"So you owe me," I said weakly. "What else is new?"

Far away, I could hear a car alarm echo through the streets.

"You asked me why Hermes was mad at me," I said.

"Hey, you need to rest—"

"No, I want to tell you. It's been bothering me for a long time." I moved my shoulder and winced. "When Luke came to camp, I guess he liked me."

"Really?" Percy asked. "But I thought Annabeth liked him?"

"I knew she did. I didn't like him back..." I trailed off.

"Annabeth was jealous."

"Yeah, I think she still is. I don't know why he likes me so much. He tried to visit me once, before he went into the Labyrinth. He wanted me to come with him. I told him I wouldn't go with him..."

My forehead broke out in sweat again.

"It's okay," Percy said. "Try to get some rest."

"You don't understand, Percy. Hermes was right. Maybe if I'd gone with him, I could've changed his mind. Or—or I had Amaranthine. Luke was unarmed. I could've—"

"Killed him?" Percy said. "You know that wouldn't have been right."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Luke said Kronos would use him like a stepping stone. Those were his exact words. Kronos would use Luke, and become even more powerful."

"He did that," Percy said. "He possessed Luke's body."

"But what if Luke's body is only a transition? What if Kronos has a plan to become even more powerful? I could've stopped him. The war is my fault."

The terrace door opened. Connor Stoll stepped through.

"Percy." He glanced at me. "Mrs. O'Leary just came back with Grover. I think you should talk to him."

* * *  
I decided I should try to sleep.

In my dream, I saw Nico di Angelo alone in the gardens of Hades. He'd just dug a hole in one of Persephone's flower beds, which I didn't figure would make the queen very happy.

He poured a goblet of wine into the hole and began to chant. "Let the dead taste again. Let them rise and take this offering. Maria di Angelo, show yourself!"

White smoke gathered. A human figure formed, but it wasn't Nico's mother. It was a girl with dark hair, olive skin, and the silvery clothes of a Hunter.

"Bianca," Nico said. "But—"

Don't summon our mother, Nico, she warned. She is the one spirit you are forbidden to see.

"Why?" he demanded. "What's our father hiding?"

Pain, Bianca said. Hatred. A curse that stretches back to the Great Prophecy.

"What do you mean?" Nico said. "I have to know!"

The knowledge will only hurt you. Remember what I said: holding grudges is a fatal flaw for children of Hades.

"I know that," Nico said. "But I'm not the same as I used to be, Bianca. Stop trying to protect me!"

Brother, you don't understand—

Nico swiped his hand through the mist, and Bianca's image dissipated.

"Maria di Angelo," he said again. "Speak to me!"

A different image formed. It was a scene rather than a single ghost. In the mist, I saw Nico and Bianca as little children, playing in the lobby of an elegant hotel, chasing each other around marble columns.

A woman sat on a nearby sofa. She wore a black dress, gloves, and a black veiled hat like a star from an old 1940s movie. She had Bianca's smile and Nico's eyes.

On a chair next to her sat a large oily man in a black pinstripe suit. With a shock, I realized it was Hades. He was leaning toward the woman, using his hands as he talked, like he was agitated.

"Please, my dear," he said. "You must come to the Underworld. I don't care what Persephone thinks! I can keep you safe there."

"No, my love." She spoke with an Italian accent. "Raise our children in the land of the dead? I will not do this."

"Maria, listen to me. The war in Europe has turned the other gods against me. A prophecy has been made. My children are no longer safe. Poseidon and Zeus have forced me into an agreement. None of us are to have demigod children ever again."

"But you already have Nico and Bianca. Surely—"

"No! The prophecy warns of a child who turns sixteen. Zeus has decreed that the children I currently have must be turned over to Camp Half-Blood for proper training, but I know what he means. At best they'll be watched, imprisoned, turned against their father. Even more likely, he will not take a chance. He won't allow my demigod children to reach sixteen. He'll find a way to destroy them, and I won't risk that!"

"Certamente," Maria said. "We will stay together. Zeus is an imbecile."

I couldn't help admiring her courage, but Hades glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Maria, please. I told you, Zeus gave me a deadline of last week to turn over the children. His wrath will be horrible, and I cannot hide you forever. As long as you are with the children, you are in danger too."

Maria smiled, and again it was creepy how much she looked like her daughter. "You are a god, my love. You will protect us. But I will not take Nico and Bianca to the Underworld."

Hades wrung his hands. "Then, there is another option. I know a place in the desert where time stands still. I could send the children there, just for a while, for their own safety, and we could be together. I will build you a golden palace by the Styx."

Maria di Angelo laughed gently. "You are a kind man, my love. A generous man. The other gods should see you as I do, and they would not fear you so. But Nico and Bianca need their mother. Besides, they are only children. The gods wouldn't really hurt them."

"You don't know my family," Hades said darkly. "Please, Maria, I can't lose you."

She touched his lips with her fingers. "You will not lose me. Wait for me while I get my purse. Watch the children."

She kissed the lord of the dead and rose from the sofa. Hades watched her walk upstairs as if her every step away caused him pain.

A moment later, he tensed. The children stopped playing as if they sensed something too.

"No!" Hades said. But even his godly powers were too slow. He only had time to erect a wall of black energy around the children before the hotel exploded.

The force was so violent, the entire mist image dissolved.

When it came into focus again, I saw Hades kneeling in the ruins, holding the broken form of Maria di Angelo. Fires still burned all around him. Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder rumbled.

Little Nico and Bianca stared at their mother uncomprehendingly. The Fury Alecto appeared behind them, hissing and flapping her leathery wings. The children didn't seem to notice her.

"Zeus!" Hades shook his fist at the sky. "I will crush you for this! I will bring her back!"

"My lord, you cannot," Alecto warned. "You of all immortals must respect the laws of death."

Hades glowed with rage. I thought he would show his true form and vaporize his own children, but at the last moment he seemed to regain control.

"Take them," he told Alecto, choking back a sob. "Wash their memories clean in the Lethe and bring them to the Lotus Hotel. Zeus will not harm them there."

"As you wish, my lord," Alecto said. "And the woman's body?"

"Take her as well," he said bitterly. "Give her the ancient rites."

Alecto, the children, and Maria's body dissolved into shadows, leaving Hades alone in the ruins.

"I warned you," a new voice said.

Hades turned. A girl in a multicolored dress stood by the smoldering remains of the sofa. She had short black hair and sad eyes. She was no more than twelve. I didn't know her, but she looked strangely familiar.

"You dare come here?" Hades growled. "I should blast you to dust!"

"You cannot," the girl said. "The power of Delphi protects me."

With a chill, I realized I was looking at the Oracle of Delphi, back when she was alive and young. Somehow, seeing her like this was even spookier than seeing her as a mummy.

"You've killed the woman I loved!" Hades roared. "Your prophecy brought us to this.'"

He loomed over the girl, but she didn't flinch.

"Zeus ordained the explosion to destroy the children," she said, "because you defied his will. I had nothing to do with it. And I did warn you to hide them sooner."

"I couldn't! Maria would not let me! Besides, they were innocent."

"Nevertheless, they are your children, which makes them dangerous. Even if you put them away in the Lotus Hotel, you only delay the problem. Nico and Bianca will never be able to rejoin the world lest they turn sixteen."

"Because of your so-called Great Prophecy. And you have forced me into an oath to have no other children. You have left me with nothing!"

"I foresee the future," the girl said. "I cannot change it."

Black fire lit the god's eyes, and I knew something bad was coming. I wanted to yell at the girl to hide or run.

"Then, Oracle, hear the words of Hades," he growled. "Perhaps I cannot bring back Maria. Nor can I bring yon an early death. But your soul is still mortal, and I can curse you."

The girl's eyes widened. "You would not—"

"I swear," Hades said, "as long as my children remain outcasts, as long as I labor under the curse of your Great Prophecy, the Oracle of Delphi will never have another mortal host. You will never rest in peace. No other will take your place. Your body will wither and die, and still the Oracle's spirit will be locked inside you. You will speak your bitter prophecies until you crumble to nothing. The Oracle will die with you!"

The girl screamed, and the misty image was blasted to shreds. Nico fell to his knees in Persephone's garden, his face white with shock. Standing in front of him was the real Hades, towering in his black robes and scowling down at his son.

"And just what," he asked Nico, "do you think you're doing?"

A black explosion filled my dreams. Then I woke up.


	76. 76

I slept and dreamed of nothing.

* * *

I got up, feeling much better. I stood up from the lounge chair and put on my armor. I grabbed my weapons and went to find Percy.

I found Percy sleeping on a random bed.

Percy got up so fast he banged his head on my armor.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Percy." I was standing over him. "I was just about to wake you."

Percy rubbed his head.

"Percy?" I asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Percy said. "What... what are you doing in armor? You should be resting."

"Oh, I'm fine," I said. "That nectar and ambrosia fixed me up."

"Uh-huh. You can't seriously go out and fight."

I offered him my good hand and helped him up.

"You're going to need every person you have," I said. "Annabeth told me earlier. There's an army—"

"Heading south into Central Park," Percy said. "Yeah, I know."

Percy told me part of his dreams.

"Do you think Ethan suspects about your weak spot?" I asked.

"I don't know," Percy admitted. "He didn't tell Kronos anything, but if he figures it out—"

"We can't let him."

"I'll bonk him on the head harder next time," Percy suggested. "Any idea what surprise Kronos was talking about?"

I shook my head. "I didn't see anything in the shield, but I don't like surprises."

"Agreed."

"So," I said, "are you going to argue about me coming along?"

"Nah. You'd just beat me up."

I managed a laugh. Percy grabbed his sword, and we went to rally the troops.

* * *

 

Thalia, Annabeth, and the head counselors were waiting for us at the Reservoir. The lights of the city were blinking on at twilight. I guess a lot of them were on automatic timers. Streetlamps glowed around the shore of the lake, making the water and trees look even spookier.

"They're coming," Thalia confirmed, pointing north with a silver arrow. "One of my scouts just reported they've crossed the Harlem River. There was no way to hold them back. The army..." She shrugged. "It's huge."

"We'll hold them at the park," Percy said. "Grover, you ready?"

He nodded. "As ready as we'll ever be. If my nature spirits can stop them anywhere, this is the place."

"Yes, we will!" said another voice. A very old, fat satyr pushed through the crowd, stumbling over his own spear. He was dressed in wood-bark armor that only covered half of his belly.

"Leneus?" Percy said.

"Don't act so surprised," he huffed. "I am a leader of the Council, and you did tell me to find Grover. Well, I found him, and I'm not going to let a mere outcast lead the satyrs without my help!"

Behind Leneus's back, Grover made gagging motions, but the old satyr grinned like he was the savior of the day. "Never fear! We'll show those Titans!"

"Um... yeah. Well, Grover, you won't be alone. Annabeth and the Athena cabin will make their stand here. And me, and Ariana, and... Thalia?"

She patted him on the shoulder. "Say no more. The Hunters are ready."

Percy looked at the other counselors. "That leaves the rest of you with a job just as important. You have to guard the other entrances to Manhattan. You know how tricky Kronos is. He'll hope to distract us with this big army and sneak another force in somewhere else. It's up to you to make sure that doesn't happen. Has each cabin chosen a bridge or tunnel?"

The counselors nodded grimly.

"Then let's do it," Percy said. "Good hunting, everybody!"

* * *

We heard the army before we saw it.

The noise was like a cannon barrage.

At the north end of the reservoir, the enemy vanguard broke through the woods—a warrior in golden armor leading a battalion of Laistrygonian giants with huge bronze axes. Hundreds of other monsters poured out behind them.

"Positions!" Annabeth yelled.

Her cabinmates scrambled. The idea was to make the enemy army break around the reservoir. To get to us, they'd have to follow the trails, which meant they'd be marching in narrow columns on either side of the water.

At first, the plan seemed to work. The enemy divided and streamed toward us along the shore. When they were halfway across, our defenses kicked in. The jogging trail erupted in Greek fire, incinerating many of the monsters instantly. Others flailed around, engulfed in green flames. Athena campers threw grappling hooks around the largest giants and pulled them to the ground.

In the woods on the right, the Hunters sent a volley of silver arrows into the enemy line, destroying twenty or thirty dracaenae, but more marched behind them. A bolt of lightning crackled out of the sky and fried a Laistrygonian giant to ashes.

Grover raised his pipes and played a quick tune. A roar went up from the woods on both sides as every tree, rock, and bush seemed to sprout a spirit. Dryads and satyrs raised their clubs and charged. The trees wrapped around the monsters, strangling them. Grass grew around the feet of the enemy archers. Stones flew up and hit dracaenae in the faces.

The enemy slogged forward. Giants smashed through the trees, and naiads faded as their life sources were destroyed. Hellhounds lunged at the timber wolves, knocking them aside. Enemy archers returned fire, and a Hunter fell from a high branch.

I noticed the Titan in gold armor charging towards us.

"Percy!" I grabbed his arm and pointed at the reservoir.

A Greek firebomb exploded right on top of him, but he raised his palm and sucked the flames out of the air.

"Hyperion," I said in awe. "The lord of light. Titan of the east."

"Bad?" Percy guessed.

"Next to Atlas, he's the greatest Titan warrior. In the old days, four Titans controlled the four corners of the world. Hyperion was the east—the most powerful. He was the father of Helios, the first sun god."

"I'll keep him busy," Percy promised.

"Percy, even you can't—"

"Just keep our forces together."

I slashed at the enemy warriors.

 

I saw that Percy was standing in the middle of his own personal hurricane. Clouds of water vapor swirled around him, winds so powerful they buffeted Hyperion and flattened the grass in a twenty-yard radius. Enemy warriors threw javelins at him, but the storm knocked them aside.

Lightning flickered around him. The clouds darkened and the rain swirled faster. Percy closed in on Hyperion and blew him off his feet.

"Percy!" Grover called. "Bring him over here!"

Percy slashed and jabbed, Hyperion could barely defend himself. His eyes kept trying to ignite, but the hurricane quenched his flames.

Percy propelled Hyperion across the field, straight to where Grover was waiting.

"I will not be toyed with!" Hyperion bellowed.

He managed to get to his feet again, but Grover put his reed pipes to his lips and began to play. Leneus joined him. Around the grove, every satyr took up the song—an eerie melody, like a creek flowing over stones. The ground erupted at Hyperion's feet. Gnarled roots wrapped around his legs.

"What's this?" he protested. He tried to shake off the roots, but he was still weak. The roots thickened until he looked like he was wearing wooden boots.

"Stop this!" he shouted. "Your woodland magic is no match for a Titan!"

But the more he struggled, the faster the roots grew. They curled about his body, thickening and hardening into bark. His golden armor melted into the wood, becoming part of a large trunk.

The music continued. Hyperion's forces backed up in astonishment as their leader was absorbed. He stretched out his arms and they became branches, from which smaller branches shot out and grew leaves. The tree grew taller and thicker, until only the Titan's face was visible in the middle of the trunk.

"You cannot imprison me!" he bellowed. "I am Hyperion! I am—"

The bark closed over his face.

Grover took his pipes from his mouth. "You are a very nice maple tree."

Several of the other satyrs passed out from exhaustion, but they'd done their job well. The Titan lord was completely encased in an enormous maple. The trunk was at least twenty feet in diameter, with branches as tall as any in the park. The tree might've stood there for centuries.

The Titan's army started to retreat. A cheer went up from the Athena cabin, but our victory was short-lived.

Because just then Kronos unleashed his surprise.

"REEEEET!"

The squeal echoed through upper Manhattan. Demigods and monsters alike froze in terror.

"REEEEEET!" A huge pink creature soared over the reservoir.

"A sow!" Annabeth cried. "Take cover!"

The demigods scattered as the winged lady pig swooped down. Her wings were pink like a flamingo's, which matched her skin beautifully, but it was hard to think of her as cute when her hooves slammed into the ground, barely missing one of Annabeth's siblings. The pig stomped around and tore down half an acre of trees, belching a cloud of noxious gas. Then it took off again, circling around for another strike.

I ran towards Percy.

"Don't tell me that thing is from Greek mythology," Percy complained.

"Afraid so," Annabeth said. "The Clazmonian Sow. It terrorized Greek towns back in the day."

"Let me guess," Percy said. "Hercules beat it."

"Nope," I said. "As far as I know, no hero has ever beaten it."

"Perfect," Percy muttered.

The Titan's army was recovering from its shock. I guess they realized the pig wasn't after them.

We only had seconds before they were ready to fight, and our forces were still in a panic. Every time the sow belched, Grover's nature spirits yelped and faded back into their trees.

"That pig has to go." Percy grabbed a grappling hook from one of Annabeth's siblings. "I'll take care of it. You guys hold the rest of the enemy. Push them back!"

"But, Percy," Grover said, "what if we can't?"

"Retreat if you need to," Percy said. "Just slow them down. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Percy swung the grappling hook like a lasso. When the sow came down for its next pass, he threw it. The hook wrapped around the base of the pig's wing. It squealed in rage and veered off, yanking the rope and Percy into the sky.


	77. 77

Midtown was a war zone. The Hunters had set up a defensive line on 37th, just three blocks north of Olympus. To the east on Park Avenue, Jake Mason and some other Hephaestus campers were leading an army of statues against the enemy. To the west, the Demeter cabin and Grover's nature spirits had turned Sixth Avenue into a jungle that was hampering a squadron of Kronos's demigods. The south was clear for now, but the flanks of the enemy army were swinging around. A few more minutes and we'd be totally surrounded.

I was helping Annabeth and two of her siblings. We were holding back a Hyperborean giant.

Suddenly, Percy landed on the giant's head. When the giant looked up, he slid off his face, shield-bashing his nose on the way down.

"RAWWWR!" The giant staggered backward, blue blood trickling from his nostrils.

Percy hit the pavement running. The Hyperborean breathed a cloud of white mist, and the temperature dropped.

"Hey, ugly!" I yelled.

Blue Boy bellowed and turned toward me, exposing the unprotected back of his legs. Percy charged and stabbed him behind the knee.

"WAAAAH!" The Hyperborean buckled. I waited for him to turn, but he froze. I mean he literally turned to solid ice. From the point where Percy had stabbed him, cracks appeared in his body. They got larger and wider until the giant crumbled in a mountain of blue shards.

"Thanks." I winced, trying to catch my breath. "The pig?"

"Pork chops," Percy said.

"Good." I saw Percy's expression and rolled my eyes. "I'm fine, Percy. Come on! We've got plenty of enemies left."

The next hour was a blur. I fought like I'd never fought before—wading into legions of dracaenae, taking out dozens of telkhines with every strike, destroying empousai and knocking out enemy demigods. No matter how many I defeated, more took their place.

Percy and I raced from block to block, trying to shore up our defenses. Too many of our friends lay wounded in the streets. Too many were missing.

As the night wore on and the moon got higher, we were backed up foot by foot until we were only a block from the Empire State Building in any direction. At one point Grover was next to me, bonking snake women over the head with his cudgel. Then he disappeared in the crowd, and it was Thalia at my side, driving the monsters back with the power of her magic shield. Mrs. O'Leary bounded out of nowhere, picked up a Laistrygonian giant in her mouth, and flung him into the air like a Frisbee. I used my invisibility to sneak behind the enemy lines.

But it still wasn't enough.

"Hold your lines!" Katie Gardner shouted, somewhere off to my left.

The problem was there were too few of us to hold anything. The entrance to Olympus was twenty feet behind me. A ring of brave demigods, Hunters, and nature spirits guarded the doors. I slashed and hacked, destroying everything in my path, but even I was getting tired, and I couldn't be everywhere at once.

Behind the enemy troops, a few blocks to the east, a bright light began to shine. I thought it was the sunrise. Then I realized Kronos was riding toward us on a golden chariot. A dozen Laistrygonian giants bore torches before him. Two Hyperboreans carried his black-and-purple banners. The Titan lord looked fresh and rested, his powers at full strength. He was taking his time advancing, letting me wear myself down.

Annabeth appeared next to me. "We have to fall back to the doorway. Hold it at all costs!"

She was right. I went to Percy. I was about tell him to order a retreat when I heard the hunting horn.

It cut through the noise of the battle like a fire alarm. A chorus of horns answered from all around us, echoing off the buildings of Manhattan.

I glanced at Thalia, but she just frowned.

"Not the Hunters," she assured. "We're all here."

"Then who?" Percy asked/

The horns got louder. I couldn't tell where they were coming from because of the echo, but it sounded like an entire army was approaching.

I was afraid it might be more enemies, but Kronos's forces looked as confused as we were. Giants lowered their clubs. Dracaenae hissed. Even Kronos's honor guard looked uneasy.

Then, to our left, a hundred monsters cried out at once. Kronos's entire northern flank surged forward. I thought we were doomed, but they didn't attack. They ran straight past us and crashed into their southern allies.

A new blast of horns shattered the night. The air shimmered. In a blur of movement, an entire cavalry appeared as if dropping out of light speed.

"Yeah, baby!" a voice wailed. "PARTY!"

A shower of arrows arced over our heads and slammed into the enemy, vaporizing hundreds of demons. But these weren't regular arrows. They made whizzy sounds as they flew, like WHEEEEEE! Some had pinwheels attached to them. Others had boxing gloves rather than points.

"Centaurs!" I yelled.

The Party Pony army exploded into our midst in a riot of colors: tie-dyed shirts, rainbow Afro wigs, oversize sunglasses, and war-painted faces. Some had slogans scrawled across their flanks like HORSEZ PWN or KRONOS SUX.

Hundreds of them filled the entire block.

"Percy!" Chiron shouted across the sea of wild centaurs. He was dressed in armor from the waist up, his bow in his hand, and he was grinning in satisfaction. "Sorry we're late!"

"DUDE!" Another centaur yelled. "Talk later. WASTE MONSTERS NOW!"

He locked and loaded a double-barrel paint gun and blasted an enemy hellhound bright pink. The paint must've been mixed with Celestial bronze dust or something, because as soon as it splattered the hellhound, the monster yelped and dissolved into a pink-and-black puddle.

"PARTY PONIES." a centaur yelled. "SOUTH FLORIDA!"

Somewhere across the battlefield, a twangy voice yelled back, "HEART OF TEXAS CHAPTER!"

"HAWAII OWNS YOUR FACES!" a third one shouted.

It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. The entire Titan army turned and fled, pushed back by a flood of paintballs, arrows, swords, and NERF baseball bats. The centaurs trampled everything in their path.

"Stop running, you fools!" Kronos yelled. "Stand and ACKK!"

That last part was because a panicked Hyperborean giant stumbled backward and sat on top of him. The lord of time disappeared under a giant blue butt.

We pushed them for several blocks until Chiron yelled, "HOLD! On your promise, HOLD!"

It wasn't easy, but eventually the order got relayed up and down the ranks of centaurs, and they started to pull back, letting the enemy flee.

"Chiron's smart," Annabeth said, wiping the sweat off her face. "If we pursue, we'll get too spread out. We need to regroup."

"But the enemy—"

"They're not defeated," she agreed. "But the dawn is coming. At least we've bought some time."

I watched as the last of the telkhines scuttled toward the East River. Then reluctantly I turned and headed back toward the Empire State Building.

We set up a two-block perimeter, with a command tent at the Empire State Building. Chiron informed us that the Party Ponies had sent chapters from almost every state in the Union: forty from California, two from Rhode Island, thirty from Illinois . . . Roughly five hundred total had answered his call, but even with that many, we couldn't defend more than a few blocks.

"Dude," said a centaur named Larry. His T-shirt identified him as BIG CHIEF UBER GUY, NEW MEXICO CHAPTER. "That was more fun than our last convention in Vegas!"

"Yeah," said Owen from South Dakota. He wore a black leather jacket and an old WWII army helmet. "We totally wasted them!"

Chiron patted Owen on the back. "You did well, my friends, but don't get careless. Kronos should never be underestimated. Now why don't you visit the diner on West 33rd and get some breakfast? I hear the Delaware chapter found a stash of root beer."

"Root beer!" They almost trampled each other as they galloped off.

Chiron smiled. Annabeth and I gave him a big hug, and Mrs. O'Leary licked his face.

"Ack," he grumbled. "Enough of that, dog. Yes, I'm glad to see you too."

"Chiron, thanks," Percy said. "Talk about saving the day."

He shrugged. "I'm sorry it took so long. Centaurs travel fast, as you know. We can bend distance as we ride. Even so, getting all the centaurs together was no easy task. The Party Ponies are not exactly organized."

"How'd you get through the magic defenses around the city?" I asked.

"They slowed us down a bit," Chiron admitted, "but I think they're intended mostly to keep mortals out. Kronos doesn't want puny humans getting in the way of his great victory."

"So maybe other reinforcements can get through," Percy said hopefully.

Chiron stroked his beard. "Perhaps, though time is short. As soon as Kronos regroups, he will attack again. Without the element of surprise on our side..."

I understood what he meant. Kronos wasn't beaten. Not by a long shot. I half hoped Kronos had been squashed under that Hyperborean giant's butt, but I knew better. He'd be back, tonight at the latest.

"And Typhon?" Percy asked.

Chiron's face darkened. "The gods are tiring. Dionysus was incapacitated yesterday. Typhon smashed his chariot, and the wine god went down somewhere in the Appalachians. No one has seen him since. Hephaestus is out of action as well. He was thrown from the battle so hard he created a new lake in West Virginia. He will heal, but not soon enough to help. The others still fight. They've managed to slow Typhon's approach. But the monster can not be stopped. He will arrive in New York by this time tomorrow. Once he and Kronos combine forces—"

"Then what chance do we have?" Percy said. "We can't hold out another day."

"We'll have to," Thalia said. "I'll see about setting some new traps around the perimeter."

She looked exhausted. Her jacket was smeared in grime and monster dust, but she managed to get to her feet and stagger off.

"I will help her," Chiron decided. "I should make sure my brethren don't go too overboard with the root beer."

"I'll also help." Annabeth and Chiron headed off, leaving Percy and me alone.

"At least some of the gods are okay," Percy offered.

"If you call fighting Typhon okay." I locked eyes with him. "Percy, even with the centaurs' help, I'm starting to think—"

"I know." Percy said. "Listen... Ethan Nakamura seemed to think Luke was still alive inside his body, maybe even fighting Kronos for control."

"I didn't want to tell you," Percy admitted.

"Percy, for so much of my life, I felt..." I tried to think of my words. "Well... I wanted to protect everybody. I thought I could do it. I guess that's my fatal flaw."

"I guess I understand how you feel," Percy said. "But you can't control everybody."

I pursed my lips. "I know that."

Across the street, the Apollo campers had set up a field hospital to tend the wounded—dozens of campers and almost as many Hunters. I was watching the medics work, and thinking about our slim chances for holding Mount Olympus.

I caught him staring and frowned. "What?"

"Um... nothing, I guess."

Percy bolted down the street.

"Percy!" I called. "Where are you going?"

Two people were sitting in the front seat. I didn't recognize the man in the driver's seat. But, I recognized Percy's mom, who was snoring beside the man.

"They... they must've seen those blue lights in the sky." Percy rattled the doors but they were locked. "I need to get them out."

"Percy," I said gently.

"I can't leave them here!" Percy sounded a little crazy. He pounded on the windshield. "I have to move them. I have to—"

"Percy, just... just hold on." I waved to Chiron, who was talking to some centaurs down the block. "We can push the car to a side street, all right? They're going to be fine."

Chiron galloped over. "What's... Oh dear. I see."

"They were coming to find me," Percy said. "My mom must've sensed something was wrong."

"Most likely," Chiron said. "But, Percy, they will be fine. The best thing we can do for them is stay focused on our job."

Then I noticed something in the backseat of the Prius, and my heart skipped a beat. Seat-belted behind my mother was a black-and-white Greek jar about three feet tall. Its lid was wrapped in a leather harness.

"No way," Percy muttered.

I pressed my hand to the window. "That's impossible! I thought you left that at the Plaza."

"Locked in a vault," Percy agreed.

Chiron saw the jar and his eyes widened. "That isn't— "

"Pandora's jar." Percy told him about his meeting with Prometheus.

"Then the jar is yours," Chiron said grimly. "It will follow you and tempt you to open it, no matter where you leave it. It will appear when you are weakest."

Percy drew Riptide and cut through the driver's side window like it was made of plastic wrap.

"We'll put the car in neutral," Percy said. "Push them out of the way. And take that stupid jar to Olympus."

Chiron nodded. "A good plan. But, Percy..."

Whatever he was going to say, he faltered. A mechanical drumbeat grew loud in the distance—the chop-chop-chop of a helicopter.

On a normal Monday morning in New York, this would've been no big deal, but after two days of silence, a mortal helicopter was the oddest thing I'd ever heard. A few blocks east, the monster army shouted and jeered as the helicopter came into view. It was a civilian model painted dark red, with a bright green "DE" logo on the side. The words under the logo were too small to read, but I knew what they said: DARE ENTERPRISES.

"What is she doing here?" I demanded. "How did she get through the barrier?"

"Who?" Chiron looked confused. "What mortal would be insane enough—"

Suddenly the helicopter pitched forward.

"The Morpheus enchantment!" Chiron said. "The foolish mortal pilot is asleep."

I watched as the helicopter careened sideways, falling toward a row of office buildings. Even if it didn't crash, the gods of the air would probably swat it out of the sky for coming near the Empire State Building.

I whistled and Guido the pegasus swooped out of nowhere.

You rang for a handsome horse? he asked.

"Come on, Percy," I growled. "We have to save your friend."


	78. 78

Here's my definition of not fun. Fly a pegasus toward an out-of-control helicopter. If Guido had been any less of a fancy flier, we would've been chopped to confetti.

I could hear Rachel screaming inside. For some reason, she hadn't fallen asleep, but I could see the pilot slumped over the controls, pitching back and forth as the helicopter wobbled toward the side of an office building.

"Ideas?" Percy asked me.

"You're going to have to take Guido and get out," I said.

"What are you going to do?"

I said, "Hyah!" and Guido went into a nosedive.

"Duck!" I yelled.

We passed so close to the rotors I felt the force of the blades ripping at my hair. We zipped along the side of the helicopter, and I grabbed the door.

That's when things went wrong.

Guido's wing slammed against the helicopter. He plummeted straight down with Percy on his back, leaving me dangling from the side of the aircraft. I was so terrified I could barely think, but Rachel pulled me inside the copter.

The helicopter was only a few seconds away from slamming into the side of the building.

I ran to the controls and steered the helicopter away from the building and made it descend.

It seemed to take forever, but finally the helicopter thudded to a landing in the middle of Fifth Avenue.

Percy ran forward as the rotors spun to a stop. Rachel opened the side door and dragged out the pilot.

Rachel was still dressed like she was on vacation, in beach shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals. Her hair was tangled and her face was green from the helicopter ride.

I climbed out last.

Percy stared at me in awe. "I didn't know you could fly a helicopter."

"Neither did I," I said. "I just took my best guess on the controls."

"You saved my life," Rachel said.

I flexed my bad shoulder. "Yeah, well... let's not make a habit of it. What are you doing here, Dare? Don't you know better than to fly into a war zone?"

"I—" Rachel glanced at Percy. "I had to be here. I knew Percy was in trouble."

"Got that right," I grumbled. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to rest. Glad you could stop by, Rachel."

"Ariana—" Percy called.

I stormed off toward the Empire State Building.

 

Inside the lobby, I found an empty bunk and collapsed, sure that I would never be able to sleep. A second later, my eyes closed.

In my dreams, I was back in Hades's garden. The lord of the dead paced up and down, holding his ears while Nico followed him, waving his arms.

"You have to!" Nico insisted.

Demeter and Persephone sat behind them at the breakfast table. Both of the goddesses looked bored. Demeter poured shredded wheat into four huge bowls. Persephone was magically changing the flower arrangement on the table, turning the blossoms from red to yellow to polka-dotted.

"I don't have to do anything!" Hades s eyes blazed. "I'm a god!"

"Father," Nico said, "if Olympus falls, your own palace's safety doesn't matter. You'll fade too."

"I am not an Olympian!" he growled. "My family has made that quite clear."

"You are,'' Nico said. "Whether you like it or not."

"You saw what they did to your mother," Hades said. "Zeus killed her. And you would have me help them? They deserve what they get!"

Persephone sighed. She walked her fingers across the table, absently turning the silverware into roses. "Could we please not talk about that woman?"

"You know what would help this boy?" Demeter mused. "Farming."

Persephone rolled her eyes. "Mother—"

"Six months behind a plow. Excellent character building."

Nico stepped in front of his father, forcing Hades to face him. "My mother understood about family. That's why she didn't want to leave us. You can't just abandon your family because they did something horrible. You've done horrible things to them too."

"Maria died!" Hades reminded him.

"You can't just cut yourself off from the other gods!"

"I've done very well at it for thousands of years."

"And has that made you feel any better?" Nico demanded. "Has that curse on the Oracle helped you at all? Holding grudges is a fatal flaw. Bianca warned me about that, and she was right."

"For demigods! I am immortal, all-powerful! I would not help the other gods if they begged me, if Percy Jackson himself pleaded—"

"You're just as much of an outcast as I am!" Nico yelled. "Stop being angry about it and do something helpful for once. That's the only way they'll respect you!"

Hades's palm filled with black fire.

"Go ahead," Nico said. "Blast me. That's just what the other gods would expect from you. Prove them right."

"Yes, please," Demeter complained. "Shut him up."

Persephone sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I would rather fight in the war than eat another bowl of cereal. This is boring."

Hades roared in anger. His fireball hit a silver tree right next to Nico, melting it into a pool of liquid metal.

I woke up and went outside of the Empire State Building. I walked towards Percy's side, where Grover and Annabeth stood.

"What was that?" Grover asked.

"They're coming," Percy told him. "And we're in trouble."

The Hephaestus cabin was out of Greek fire. The Apollo cabin and the Hunters were scrounging for arrows. Most of us had already ingested so much ambrosia and nectar we didn't dare take any more.

We had sixteen campers, fifteen Hunters, one goddess, and half a dozen satyrs left in fighting shape. The rest had taken refuge on Olympus. The Party Ponies tried to form ranks, but they staggered and giggled and they all smelled like root beer. The Texans were head-butting the Coloradans. The Missouri branch was arguing with Illinois. The chances were pretty good the whole army would end up fighting each other rather than the enemy.

Chiron trotted up with Rachel on his back. I felt a twinge of annoyance because Chiron rarely gave anyone a ride, and never a mortal.

"Your friend here has some useful insights, Percy," he said.

Rachel blushed. "Just some things I saw in my head."

"A drakon," Chiron said. "A Lydian drakon, to be exact. The oldest and most dangerous kind."

Percy stared at her. "How did you know that?"

"I'm not sure," Rachel admitted. "But this drakon has a particular fate. It will be killed by a child of Ares."

Annabeth crossed her arms. "How can you possibly know that?"

"I just saw it. I can't explain."

"Well, let's hope you're wrong," Percy said. "Because we're a little short on children of Ares..." he cursed in Ancient Greek.

"What?" I asked.

"The spy," Percy told me. "Kronos said, We know they cannot beat this drakon. The spy has been keeping him updated. Kronos knows the Ares cabin isn't with us. He intentionally picked a monster we can't kill."

Thalia scowled. "If I ever catch your spy, he's going to be very sorry. Maybe we could send another messenger to camp—"

"I've already done it," Chiron said. "Blackjack is on his way. But if Silena wasn't able to convince Clarisse, I doubt Blackjack will be able—"

A roar shook the ground. It sounded very close.

"Rachel," Percy said, "get inside the building."

"I want to stay."

A shadow blotted out the sun. Across the street, the drakon slithered down the side of a skyscraper. It roared, and a thousand windows shattered.

"On second thought," Rachel said in a small voice, "I'll be inside."

* * *

Let me explain: there are dragons, and then there are drakons.

Drakons are several millennia older than dragons, and much larger. They look like giant serpents. Most don't have wings. Most don't breathe fire (though some do). All are poisonous. All are immensely strong, with scales harder than titanium. Their eyes can paralyze you; not the turn-you-to-stone Medusa-type paralysis, but the oh-my-gods-that-big-snake-is-going-to-eat-me type of paralysis, which is just as bad.

We have drakon-fighting classes at camp, but there is no way to prepare yourself for a two-hundred-foot-long serpent as thick as a school bus slithering down the side of a building, its yellow eyes like searchlights and its mouth full of razor-sharp teeth big enough to chew elephants.

It almost made me long for the flying pig.

Meanwhile, the enemy army advanced down Fifth Avenue. We'd done our best to push cars out of the way to keep the mortals safe, but that just made it easier for our enemies to approach. The Party Ponies swished their tails nervously. Chiron galloped up and down their ranks, shouting encouragement to stand tough and think about victory and root beer, but I figured any second they would panic and run.

"I'll take the drakon." Percy's voice came out as a timid squeak. Then he yelled louder: "I'LL TAKE THE DRAKON! Everyone else, hold the line against the army!"

I stood next to him. I had pulled my helmet low over my face.

"Will you help me?" Percy asked.

"That's what I do," I said miserably. "I help my friends."

"Go invisible," Percy said. "Look for weak links in its armor while I keep it busy. Just be careful."

Percy whistled. "Mrs. O'Leary, heel!"

"ROOOF!" Mrs. O'Leary leaped over a line of centaurs and gave Percy a kiss.

Percy drew his sword and they charged the monster.

I turned invisible.

The drakon was three stories above us, slithering sideways along the building as it sized up our forces. Wherever it looked, centaurs froze in fear.

From the north, the enemy army crashed into the Party Ponies, and our lines broke. The drakon lashed out, swallowing three Californian centaurs in one gulp before I could even get close.

Mrs. O'Leary launched herself through the air—a deadly black shadow with teeth and claws. Normally, a pouncing hellhound is a terrifying sight, but next to the drakon, Mrs. O'Leary looked like a child's night-night doll.

Her claws raked harmlessly off the drakon's scales. She bit the monster's throat but couldn't make a dent. Her weight, however, was enough to knock the drakon off the side of the building. It flailed awkwardly and crashed to the sidewalk, hellhound and serpent twisting and thrashing. The drakon tried to bite Mrs. O'Leary, but she was too close to the serpent's mouth. Poison spewed everywhere, melting centaurs into dust along with quite a few monsters, but Mrs. O'Leary weaved around the serpent's head, scratching and biting.

"YAAAH!" Percy plunged Riptide deep into the monster's left eye. The spotlight went dark. The drakon hissed and reared back to strike, but he rolled aside.

It bit a swimming-pool-size chunk out of the pavement. It turned toward Percy with its good eye. Mrs. O'Leary did her best to cause a distraction. She leaped onto the serpent's head and scratched and growled like a really angry black wig.

The rest of the battle wasn't going well. The centaurs had panicked under the onslaught of giants and demons. An occasional orange camp T-shirt appeared in the sea of fighting, but quickly disappeared. Arrows screamed. Fire exploded in waves across both armies, but the action was moving across the street to the entrance of the Empire State Building. We were losing ground.

I materialized on the drakon's back. I became visible as I drove Kairos between a chink in the serpent's scales.

The drakon roared. It coiled around, knocking me off its back.

Percy reached me just as I hit the ground. He dragged me out of the way as the serpent rolled, crushing a lamppost right where I'd been.

"Thanks," I said.

"I told you to be careful!"

"Yeah, well, DUCK!"

It was my turn to save him. I tackled him as the monster's teeth snapped above his head. Mrs. O'Leary body-slammed the drakon's face to get its attention, and we rolled out of the way.

Meanwhile our allies had retreated to the doors of the Empire State Building. The entire enemy army was surrounding them.

We were out of options. No more help was coming. Percy and I would have to retreat before we were cut off from Mount Olympus.

Then I heard a rumbling in the south. It wasn't a sound you hear much in New York, but I recognized it immediately: chariot wheels.

A girl's voice yelled, "ARES!"

And a dozen war chariots charged into battle. Each flew a red banner with the symbol of the wild boar's head. Each was pulled by a team of skeletal horses with manes of fire. A total of thirty fresh warriors, armor gleaming and eyes full of hate, lowered their lances as one—making a bristling wall of death.

"The children of Ares!" I said in amazement. "How did Rachel know?"

Leading the charge was a girl in familiar red armor, her face covered by a boar's-head helm. She held aloft a spear that crackled with electricity. Clarisse herself had come to the rescue. While half her chariots charged the monster army, Clarisse led the other six straight for the drakon.

The serpent reared back and managed to throw off Mrs. O'Leary. My poor pet hit the side of the building with a yelp. I ran to help her, but the serpent had already zeroed in on the new threat. Even with only one eye, its glare was enough to paralyze two chariot drivers. They veered into a line of cars. The other four chariots kept charging. The monster bared its fangs to strike and got a mouthful of Celestial bronze javelins.

"EEESSSSS!!!!!" it screamed, which is probably drakon for OWWWW!

"Ares, to me!" Clarisse screamed. Her voice sounded shriller than usual, but I guess that wasn't surprising given what she was fighting.

Across the street, the arrival of six chariots gave the Party Ponies new hope. They rallied at the doors of the Empire State Building, and the enemy army was momentarily thrown into confusion.

Meanwhile, Clarisse's chariots circled the drakon. Lances broke against the monster's skin. Skeletal horses breathed fire and whinnied. Two more chariots overturned, but the warriors simply leaped to their feet, drew their swords, and went to work. They hacked at chinks in the creature's scales. They dodged poison spray like they'd been training for this all their lives, which of course they had.

No one could say the Ares campers weren't brave. Clarisse was right there in front, stabbing her spear at the drakon's face, trying to put out its other eye. But as I watched, things started to go wrong. The drakon snapped up one Ares camper in a gulp. It knocked aside another and sprayed poison on a third, who retreated in a panic, his armor melting.

"We have to help," I said.

Mrs. O'Leary tried to get up but yelped again. One of her paws was bleeding.

"Stay back, girl," Percy told her. "You've done enough already."

Percy and I jumped onto the monster's back and ran toward its head, trying to draw its attention away from Clarisse.

Her cabinmates threw javelins, most of which broke, but some lodged in the monster's teeth. It snapped its jaws together until its mouth was a mess of green blood, yellow foamy poison, and splintered weapons.

"You can do it!" Percy screamed at Clarisse. "A child of Ares is destined to kill it!"

Through her war helmet, I could only see her eyes—but I could tell something was wrong. Her blue eyes shone with fear. Clarisse never looked like that. And she didn't have blue eyes.

"ARES!" she shouted, in that strangely shrill voice. She leveled her spear and charged the drakon.

"No," I muttered. "WAIT!"

But the monster looked down at her—almost in contempt—and spit poison directly in her face.

She screamed and fell.

"Clarisse!" I jumped off the monster's back and ran to help, while the other Ares campers tried to defend their fallen counselor.

At the edge of my vision, I saw a flying chariot land on Fifth Avenue.

Then someone ran toward us. A girl's voice, shaken with grief, cried, "NO! Curse you, WHY?"

Someone was lying on the ground where she'd fallen. Her armor smoked with poison. The Ares campers and I were trying to unfasten her helmet. Kneeling next to us, her face blotchy with tears, was a girl in camp clothes. It was... Clarisse.

"WHY?" The real Clarisse demanded, holding the other girl in her arms while we struggled to remove the poison-corroded helmet.

Chris Rodriguez ran over from the flying chariot. He and Clarisse must've ridden it here from camp, chasing the Ares campers, who'd mistakenly been following the other girl, thinking she was Clarisse.

The drakon tugged its head from the brick wall and screamed in rage.

"Look out!" Chris warned.

Instead of turning toward Percy, the drakon whirled toward the sound of Chris's voice. It bared its fangs at us.

The real Clarisse looked up at the drakon, her face filled with absolute hate.

"YOU WANT DEATH?" Clarisse screamed at the drakon. "WELL, COME ON!"

She grabbed her spear from the fallen girl. With no armor or shield, she charged the drakon.

Percy tried to close the distance to help, but Clarisse was faster. She leaped aside as the monster struck, pulverizing the ground in front of her. Then she jumped onto the creature's head. As it reared up, she drove her electric spear into its good eye with so much force it shattered the shaft, releasing all of the magic weapon's power.

Electricity arced across the creature's head, causing its whole body to shudder. Clarisse jumped free, rolling safely to the sidewalk as smoke boiled from the drakon's mouth. The drakon's flesh dissolved, and it collapsed into a hollow scaly tunnel of armor.

The rest of us stared at Clarisse in awe. I had never seen anyone take down such a huge monster single-handedly. But Clarisse didn't seem to care. She ran back to the wounded girl who'd stolen her armor.

Finally I managed to remove the girl's helmet. We all gathered around: the Ares campers, Chris, Clarisse, Annabeth, Percy, and me. The battle still raged along Fifth Avenue, but for that moment nothing existed except our small circle and the fallen girl.

Her features, once beautiful, were badly burned from poison. I could tell that no amount of nectar or ambrosia would save her.

I knew who had led the Ares cabin into battle.

I looked down at the dying face of Silena Beauregard.


	79. 79

"What were you thinking?" Clarisse cradled Silena's head in her lap.

Silena tried to swallow, but her lips were dry and cracked. "Wouldn't... listen. Cabin would... only follow you."

"So you stole my armor," Clarisse said in disbelief. "You waited until Chris and I went out on patrol; you stole my armor and pretended to be me." She glared at her siblings. "And NONE of you noticed?"

The Ares campers developed a sudden interest in their combat boots.

"Don't blame them," Silena said. "They wanted to... to believe I was you."

"You stupid Aphrodite girl," Clarisse sobbed. "You charged a drakon? Why?"

"All my fault," Silena said, a tear streaking the side of her face. "The drakon, Charlie's death... camp endangered—"

"Stop it!" Clarisse said. "That's not true."

Silena opened her hand. In her palm was a silver bracelet with a scythe charm, the mark of Kronos.

"You were the spy." Percy said.

Silena tried to nod. "Before... before I liked Charlie, Luke was nice to me. He was so... charming. Handsome. Later, I wanted to stop helping him, but he threatened to tell. He promised... he promised I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt. He told me he wouldn't hurt... Charlie. He lied to me."

I met Percy's eyes. I felt like somebody had just yanked the world out from under my feet.

Behind us, the battle raged.

Clarisse scowled at her cabinmates. "Go, help the centaurs. Protect the doors. GO!"

They scrambled off to join the fight.

Silena took a heavy, painful breath. "Forgive me."

"You're not dying," Clarisse insisted.

"Charlie..." Silena's eyes were a million miles away. "See Charlie..."

She didn't speak again.

Clarisse held her and wept. Chris put a hand on her shoulder.

Finally Annabeth closed Silena's eyes.

"We have to fight." Annabeth's voice was brittle. "She gave her life to help us. We have to honor her."

Clarisse sniffled and wiped her nose. "She was a hero, understand? A hero."

Percy nodded. "Come on, Clarisse."

She picked up a sword from one of her fallen siblings. "Kronos is going to pay."

* * *

I'd like to say I drove the enemy away from the Empire State Building. The truth was Clarisse did all the work. Even without her armor or spear, she was a demon. She rode her chariot straight into the Titan's army and crushed everything in her path.

She was so inspiring, even the panicked centaurs started to rally. The Hunters scrounged arrows from the fallen and launched volley after volley into the enemy. The Ares cabin slashed and hacked, which was their favorite thing. The monsters retreated toward 35th Street.

Clarisse drove to the drakon's carcass and looped a grappling line through its eye sockets. She lashed her horses and took off, dragging the drakon behind the chariot like a Chinese New Year dragon. She charged after the enemy, yelling insults and daring them to cross her. As she rode, I realized she was literally glowing. An aura of red fire flickered around her.

"The blessing of Ares," Thalia said. "I've never seen it in person before."

For the moment, Clarisse was invincible. The enemy threw spears and arrows, but nothing hit her.

"I AM CLARISSE, DRAKON-SLAYER!" she yelled. "I will kill you ALL! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?"

"Clarisse!" I yelled. "Stop it. Withdraw!"

"What's the matter, Titan lord?" she yelled. "BRING IT ON!"

There was no answer from the enemy. Slowly, they began to fall back behind a dracaenae shield wall, while Clarisse drove in circles around Fifth Avenue, daring anyone to cross her path. The two-hundred-foot-long drakon carcass made a hollow scraping noise against the pavement, like a thousand knives.

Meanwhile, we tended our wounded, bringing them inside the lobby. Long after the enemy had retreated from sight, Clarisse kept riding up and down the avenue with her horrible trophy, demanding that Kronos meet her battle.

Chris said, "I'll watch her. She'll get tired eventually. I'll make sure she comes inside."

"What about the camp?" Percy asked. "Is anybody left there?"

Chris shook his head. "Only Argus and the nature spirits. Peleus the dragon is still guarding the tree."

"They won't last long," Percy said. "But I'm glad you came."

Chris nodded sadly. "I'm sorry it took so long. I tried to reason with Clarisse. I said there's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here. I'm sorry it took Silena..."

"My Hunters will help you stand guard," Thalia said. "Annabeth, Percy, and Ariana, you should go to Olympus. I have a feeling they'll need you up there—to set up the final defense."

The doorman had disappeared from the lobby. His book was facedown on the desk and his chair was empty. The rest of the lobby, however, was jam-packed with wounded campers, Hunters, and satyrs.

Connor and Travis Stoll met us by the elevators.

"Is it true?" Connor asked. "About Silena?"

I nodded. "She died a hero."

Travis shifted uncomfortably. "Um, I also heard—"

"That's it," I insisted. "End of story."

"Right," Travis mumbled. "Listen, we figure the Titan's army will have trouble getting up the elevator. They'll have to go up a few at a time. And the giants won't be able to fit at all."

"That's our biggest advantage," Percy said. "Any way to disable the elevator?"

"It's magic," Travis said. "Usually you need a key card, but the doorman vanished. That means the defenses are crumbling. Anyone can walk into the elevator now and head straight up."

"Then we have to keep them away from the doors," Percy said. "We'll bottle them up in the lobby."

"We need reinforcements," Travis said. "They'll just keep coming. Eventually they'll overwhelm us."

"There are no reinforcements," Connor complained.

"Maybe that's not true," Percy said.

He went outside and spent a few moments there. He rejoined us in the lobby. On the way to the elevator, we spotted Grover kneeling over a fat wounded satyr.

"Leneus!" Percy said.

The old satyr looked terrible. His lips were blue. There was a broken spear in his belly, and his furry goat legs were twisted at a painful angle.

He tried to focus on us, but I don't think he saw us.

"Grover?" he murmured.

"I'm here, Leneus." Grover was blinking back tears, despite all the horrible things Leneus had said about him.

"Did... did we win?"

"Um... yes," Grover lied. "Thanks to you, Leneus. We drove the enemy away."

"Told you," the old satyr mumbled. "True leader. True..."

He closed his eyes for the last time.

Grover gulped. He put his hand on Leneus's forehead and spoke an ancient blessing. The old satyr's body melted, until all that was left was a tiny sapling in a pile of fresh soil.

"A laurel," Grover said in awe. "Oh, that lucky old goat."

He gathered up the sapling in his hands. "I... I should plant him. In Olympus, in the gardens."

"We're going that way," Percy said. "Come on."

Easy-listening music played as the elevator rose. I thought about the first time Percy and I had visited Mount Olympus. Annabeth and Grover hadn't been with us then.

"Guys," Annabeth said quietly. "You were right about Luke." She kept her eyes fixed on the elevator floors as they blinked into the magical numbers: 400, 450, 500.

Grover, Percy, and I exchanged glances.

"Annabeth," Percy said. "I'm sorry—"

"You tried to tell me." Her voice was shaky. "Luke is no good. I didn't believe you until... until I heard how he'd used Silena. Now I know."

She put her head against the elevator wall and wouldn't look at anyone.

Grover cradled his laurel sapling in his hands. "Well... sure good to be together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror. Oh, look. It's our floor."

The doors dinged and we stepped onto the aerial walkway.

Depressing is not a word that usually describes Mount Olympus, but it looked that way now. No fires lit the braziers. The windows were dark. The streets were deserted and the doors were barred. The only movement was in the parks, which had been set up as field hospitals. Will Solace and the other Apollo campers scrambled around, caring for the wounded. Naiads and dryads tried to help, using nature magic songs to heal burns and poison.

As Grover planted the laurel sapling, Annabeth, Percy, and I went around trying to cheer up the wounded. I passed a satyr with a broken leg, a demigod who was bandaged from head to toe, and a body covered in the golden burial shroud of Apollo's cabin. I didn't know who was underneath. I didn't want to find out.

My heart felt like lead, but we tried to find positive things to say.

"You'll be up and fighting Titans in no time!" Percy told one camper.

"You look great," I told another camper.

"Leneus turned into a shrub!" Grover told a groaning satyr.

I found Dionysus's son Pollux propped up against a tree. He had a broken arm, but otherwise he was okay.

"I can still fight with the other hand," he said, gritting his teeth.

"No," Percy said. "You've done enough. I want you to stay here and help with the wounded."

"But—"

"Promise me to stay safe," Percy said. "Okay? Personal favor."

He frowned uncertainly. Finally he promised, and when he sat back down, I could tell he was kind of relieved.

Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and I kept walking toward the palace. That's where Kronos would head. As soon as he made it up the elevator—and I had no doubt he would, one way or another—he would destroy the throne room, the center of the gods' power.

The bronze doors creaked open. Our footsteps echoed on the marble floor. The constellations twinkled coldly on the ceiling of the great hall. The hearth was down to a dull red glow. Hestia, in the form of a little girl in brown robes, hunched at its edge, shivering. The Ophiotaurus swam sadly in his sphere of water. He let out a half-hearted moo when he saw us.

In the firelight, the thrones cast evil-looking shadows, like grasping hands.

Standing at the foot of Zeus's throne, looking up at the stars, was Rachel Elizabeth Dare. She was holding a Greek ceramic vase.

"Rachel?" Percy said. "Um, what are you doing with that?"

She focused on him as if she were coming out of a dream. "I found it. It's Pandora's jar, isn't it?"

"Please put down the jar," Percy said.

"I can see Hope inside it." Rachel ran her fingers over the ceramic designs. "So fragile."

"Rachel."

She held out the jar, and Percy took it. The clay felt as cold as ice.

"Grover, Ariana," Annabeth mumbled. "Let's scout around the palace. Maybe we can find some extra Greek fire or Hephaestus traps."

"But—"

"Let's go guys." I said, dragging them out of the throne room.

* * *

We came back into the throne room and stopped when we saw them. Percy had a pretty strange look on his face.

"Percy?" I said. "Should we, um, leave again?"

Percy looked at Rachel. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you? I mean... you talked to Chiron, right?"

She managed a faint smile. "You're worried about me doing something stupid?"

"But I mean... will you be okay?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "That kind of depends on whether you save the world, hero."

Percy picked up Pandora's jar. The spirit of Hope fluttered inside, trying to warm the cold container.

"Hestia," Percy said, "I give this to you as an offering."

The goddess tilted her head. "I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?"

"You're the last Olympian," Percy said. "And the most important."

"And why is that, Percy Jackson?"

"Because Hope survives best at the hearth," Percy said. "Guard it for me, and I won't be tempted to give up again."

The goddess smiled. She took the jar in her hands and it began to glow. The hearth fire burned a little brighter.

"Well done, Percy Jackson," she said. "May the gods bless you."

"We're about to find out." Percy looked at us. "Come on, guys."

Percy marched toward Poseidon's throne. We followed.

The seat of Poseidon stood just to the right of Zeus's, but it wasn't nearly as grand. The molded black leather seat was attached to a swivel pedestal, with a couple of iron rings on the side for fastening a fishing pole (or a trident). Basically it looked like a chair on a deep-sea boat, that you would sit in if you wanted to hunt shark or marlin or sea monsters.

"Help me up," Percy told us.

"Are you crazy?" Annabeth asked.

"Probably," Percy admitted.

"Percy," I said, "the gods really don't appreciate people sitting in their thrones. I mean like turn-you-into-a-pile-of-ashes don't appreciate it."

"I need to get his attention," Percy said. "It's the only way."

We exchanged uneasy looks.

"Well," Grover said, "this'll get his attention."

We linked our arms to make a step, then boosted him onto the throne.

The throne rumbled. Percy sat there for minutes. Suddenly he turned pale and started smoking.

Percy slipped down from the throne.

Grover studied him nervously. "Are you okay? You turned pale and... you started smoking."

"I did not!"

"If you'd sat there any longer," I said, "you would've spontaneously combusted. I hope the conversation was worth it?"

Moo, said the Ophiotaurus in his sphere of water.

"We'll find out soon," Percy said.

Just then the doors of the throne room swung open. Thalia marched in. Her bow was snapped in half and her quiver was empty.

"You've got to get down there," she told us. "The enemy is advancing. And Kronos is leading them."


	80. 80

By the time we got to the street, it was too late.

Campers and Hunters lay wounded on the ground. Clarisse must've lost a fight with a Hyperborean giant, because she and her chariot were frozen in a block of ice. The centaurs were nowhere to be seen. Either they'd panicked and ran or they'd been disintegrated.

The Titan army ringed the building, standing maybe twenty feet from the doors. Kronos's vanguard was in the lead: Ethan Nakamura, the dracaena queen in her green armor, and two Hyperboreans. I didn't see Prometheus. The slimy weasel was probably hiding back at their headquarters. But Kronos himself stood right in front with his scythe in hand.

The only thing standing in his way was...

"Chiron," Annabeth said, her voice trembling.

If Chiron heard us, he didn't answer. He had an arrow notched, aimed straight at Kronos's face.

As soon as Kronos saw us, his gold eyes flared. Every muscle in my body froze. Then the Titan lord turned his attention back to Chiron. "Step aside, little son."

Hearing Luke call Chiron his son was weird enough, but Kronos put contempt in his voice, like son was the worst word he could think of.

"I'm afraid not." Chiron's tone was steely calm, the way he gets when he's really angry.

I tried to move, but my feet felt like concrete. Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and Thalia were straining too, like they were just as stuck.

"Chiron!" I said. "Look out!"

The dracaena queen became impatient and charged. Chiron's arrow flew straight between her eyes and she vaporized on the spot, her empty armor clattering to the asphalt.

Chiron reached for another arrow, but his quiver was empty. He dropped the bow and drew his sword. I knew he hated fighting with a sword. It was never his favorite weapon.

Kronos chuckled. He advanced a step, and Chiron's horse-half skittered nervously. His tail flicked back and forth.

"You're a teacher," Kronos sneered. "Not a hero."

"Luke was a hero," Chiron said. "He was a good one, until you corrupted him."

"FOOL!" Kronos's voice shook the city. "You filled his head with empty promises. You said the gods cared about me!"

"Me," Chiron noticed. "You said me."

Kronos looked confused, and in that moment, Chiron struck. It was a good maneuver—a feint followed by a strike to the face. Kronos was quick. He had all of Luke's fighting skill, which was a lot. He knocked aside Chiron's blade and yelled, "BACK!"

A blinding white light exploded between the Titan and the centaur. Chiron flew into the side of the building with such force the wall crumbled and collapsed on top of him.

"No!" I wailed. The freezing spell broke. We ran toward our teacher, but there was no sign of him. Thalia, Percy, and I pulled helplessly at the bricks while a ripple of ugly laughter ran through the Titan's army.

"YOU!" Annabeth turned on Luke. "To think that I... that I thought—"

She drew her knife.

"Annabeth, don't." I tried to take her arm, but she shook me off.

She attacked Kronos, and his smug smile faded. Perhaps some part of Luke remembered that he used to like this girl, used to take care of her when she was little. She plunged her knife between the straps of his armor, right at his collar bone. The blade should've sunk into his chest. Instead it bounced off.

I yanked her back as Kronos swung his scythe, slicing the air where she'd been standing.

She fought me and screamed, "I HATE you!" I wasn't sure who she was talking to—me or Luke or Kronos. Tears streaked the dust on her face.

"I have to fight him," Percy told her.

"It's my fight too, Percy!"

Kronos laughed. "So much spirit. I can see why Luke wanted to spare you. Unfortunately, that won't be possible."

He raised his scythe. I got ready to defend, but before Kronos could strike, a dog's howl pierced the air somewhere behind the Titan's army. "Arroooooooo!"

Percy called, "Mrs. O'Leary?"

The enemy forces stirred uneasily. Then the strangest thing happened. They began to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them was forcing them to.

Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block was Mrs. O'Leary, and a small figure in black armor.

"Nico?" I called.

"ROWWF!" Mrs. O'Leary bounded toward us, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. Nico strode forward. The enemy army fell back before him like he radiated death, which of course he did.

Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, he smiled. "Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?"

"Son of Hades." Kronos spit on the ground. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?"

"Your death," Nico said, "would be great for me."

"I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live."

Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. "I don't agree."

The ground rumbled. Cracks appeared in the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. There were thousands of them, and as they emerged, the Titan's monsters got jumpy and started to back up.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND!" Kronos demanded. "The dead are no match for us."

The sky turned dark and cold. Shadows thickened. A harsh war horn sounded, and as the dead soldiers formed up ranks with their guns and swords and spears, an enormous chariot roared down Fifth Avenue. It came to a stop next to Nico. The horses were living shadows, fashioned from darkness. The chariot was inlaid with obsidian and gold, decorated with scenes of painful death. Holding the reins was Hades himself, Lord of the Dead, with Demeter and Persephone riding behind him.

Hades wore black armor and a cloak the color of fresh blood. On top of his pale head was the helm of darkness: a crown that radiated pure terror. It changed shape as I watched—from a dragon's head to a circle of black flames to a wreath of human bones. But that wasn't the scary part. I could tell the enemy army felt the effects of his helm. Only Kronos's power and authority kept his ranks from fleeing.

Hades smiled coldly. "Hello, Father. You're looking... young."

"Hades," Kronos growled. "I hope you and the ladies have come to pledge your allegiance."

"I'm afraid not." Hades sighed. "My son here convinced me that perhaps I should prioritize my list of enemies." He glanced at Percy with distaste. "As much as I dislike certain upstart demigods, it would not do for Olympus to fall. I would miss bickering with my siblings. And if there is one thing we agree on—it is that you were a TERRIBLE father."

"True," muttered Demeter. "No appreciation of agriculture."

"Mother!" Persephone complained.

Hades drew his sword, a double-edged Stygian blade etched with silver. "Now fight me! For today the House of Hades will be called the saviors of Olympus."

"I don't have time for this," Kronos snarled.

He struck the ground with his scythe. A crack spread in both directions, circling the Empire State Building. A wall of force shimmered along the fissure line, separating Kronos's vanguard, my friends, and me from the bulk of the two armies.

"What's he doing?" Percy muttered.

"Sealing us in," Thalia said. "He's collapsing the magic barriers around Manhattan—cutting off just the building, and us."

Sure enough, outside the barrier, car engines revved to life. Pedestrians woke up and stared uncomprehendingly at the monsters and zombies all around them. No telling what they saw through the Mist, but I'm sure it was plenty scary. Car doors opened.

"No," Percy said. "Don't..."

I turned to see Percy's mom as she looked at us, said something to the man, and they ran straight toward us.

I didn't want to bring her to Kronos's attention.

Fortunately, Hades caused a distraction. He charged at the wall of force, but his chariot crashed against it and overturned. He got to his feet, cursing, and blasted the wall with black energy. The barrier held.

"ATTACK!" he roared.

The armies of the dead clashed with the Titan's monsters. Fifth Avenue exploded into absolute chaos. Mortals screamed and ran for cover. Demeter waved her hand and an entire column of giants turned into a wheat field. Persephone changed the dracaenae's spears into sunflowers. Nico slashed and hacked his way through the enemy, trying to protect the pedestrians as best he could.

"Nakamura," Kronos said. "Attend me. Giants—deal with them."

He pointed at my friends and me. Then he ducked into the lobby.

For a second I was stunned. I'd been expecting a fight.

The first Hyperborean giant smashed at me with his club. I rolled between his legs and stabbed Nikao into his backside. He shattered into a pile of ice shards. The second giant breathed frost at Annabeth, who was barely able to stand, but Grover pulled her out of the way while Thalia went to work. She sprinted up the giant's back like a gazelle, sliced her hunting knives across his monstrous blue neck, and created the world's largest headless ice sculpture.

I glanced outside the magic barrier. Nico was fighting his way toward Percy's mom and the man, but they weren't waiting for help. The man grabbed a sword from a fallen hero and did a pretty fine job keeping a dracaena busy. He stabbed her in the gut, and she disintegrated.

"Paul?" Percy said in amazement.

He turned toward him and grinned. "I hope that was a monster I just killed. I was a Shakespearian actor in college! Picked up a little swordplay!"

A Laistrygonian giant charged toward Percy's mom. She was rummaging around in an abandoned police car—maybe looking for the emergency radio—and her back was turned.

"Mom!" Percy yelled.

She whirled when the monster was almost on top of her. I thought the thing in her hands was an umbrella until she cranked the pump and the shotgun blast blew the giant twenty feet backward, right into Nico's sword.

"Nice one," Paul said.

"When did you learn to fire a shotgun?" Percy demanded.

His mom blew the hair out of her face. "About two seconds ago. Percy, we'll be fine. Go!"

"Yes," Nico agreed, "we'll handle the army. You have to get Kronos!"

"Come on!" I said.

Percy nodded. Then he looked at the rubble pile on the side of the building.

"Mrs. O'Leary," Percy said. "Please, Chiron's under there. If anyone can dig him out, you can. Find him! Help him!"

I'm not sure how much she understood, but she bounded to the pile and started to dig. Annabeth, Thalia, Grover, Percy, and I raced for the elevators.


	81. 81

The bridge to Olympus was dissolving. We stepped out of the elevator onto the white marble walkway, and immediately cracks appeared at our feet.

"Jump!" Grover said, which was easy for him since he's part mountain goat.

He sprang to the next slab of stone while ours tilted sickeningly.

"Gods, I hate heights!" Thalia yelled as she, Percy, and Annabeth leaped. But I was in no shape for jumping. I stumbled and yelled, "Percy!"

Percy caught my hand as the pavement fell, crumbling into dust. My feet dangled in the open air. My hand started to slip until Percy was holding me only by my fingers. Then Grover, Thalia, and Annabeth grabbed his legs.

Percy pulled me up and we lay trembling on the pavement. I didn't realize we had our arms around each other until he suddenly tensed.

"Um, thanks," I muttered.

"Uh duh." Percy said.

"Keep moving!" Grover tugged Percy's shoulder. We untangled ourselves and sprinted across the sky bridge as more stones disintegrated and fell into oblivion. We made it to the edge of the mountain just as the final section collapsed.

Annabeth looked back at the elevator, which was now completely out of reach—a polished set of metal doors hanging in space, attached to nothing, six hundred stories above Manhattan.

"We're marooned," she said. "On our own."

"Blah-ha-ha!" Grover said. "The connection between Olympus and America is dissolving. If it fails—"

"The gods won't move on to another country this time," I said. "This will be the end of Olympus. The final end."

We ran through streets. Mansions were burning. Statues had been hacked down. Trees in the parks were blasted to splinters. It looked like someone had attacked the city with a giant Weedwacker.

"Kronos's scythe," Percy said.

We followed the winding path toward the palace of the gods. I didn't remember the road being so long. Maybe Kronos was making time go slower, or maybe it was just dread slowing me down. The whole mountaintop was in ruins—so many beautiful buildings and gardens gone.

A few minor gods and nature spirits had tried to stop Kronos. What remained of them was strewn about the road: shattered armor, ripped clothing, swords and spears broken in half.

Somewhere ahead of us, Kronos's voice roared: "Brick by brick! That was my promise. Tear it down BRICK BY BRICK!"

A white marble temple with a gold dome suddenly exploded. The dome shot up like the lid of a teapot and shattered into a billion pieces, raining rubble over the city.

"That was a shrine to Artemis," Thalia grumbled. "He'll pay for that."

We were running under the marble archway with the huge statues of Zeus and Hera when the entire mountain groaned, rocking sideways like a boat in a storm.

"Look out!" Grover yelped. The archway crumbled. I looked up in time to see a twenty-ton scowling Hera topple over on us. Annabeth, Percy, and I would've been flattened, but Thalia shoved us from behind and we landed just out of danger.

"Thalia!" Grover cried.

When the dust cleared and the mountain stopped rocking, we found her still alive, but her legs were pinned under the statue.

We tried desperately to move it, but it would've taken several Cyclopes. When we tried to pull Thalia out from under it, she yelled in pain.

"I survive all those battles," she growled, "and I get defeated by a stupid chunk of rock!"

"It's Hera," I said in outrage. "She's had it in for me all year. Her statue would've hurt me if you hadn't pushed us away."

Thalia grimaced. "Well, don't just stand there! I'll be fine. Go!"

We didn't want to leave her, but I could hear Kronos laughing as he approached the hall of the gods. More buildings exploded.

"We'll be back," Percy promised.

"I'm not going anywhere," Thalia groaned.

A fireball erupted on the side of the mountain, right near the gates of the palace.

"We've got to run," Percy said.

"I don't suppose you mean away," Grover murmured hopefully.

Percy sprinted toward the palace, Annabeth and I right behind him.

"I was afraid of that," Grover sighed, and clip-clopped after us.

The doors of the palace were big enough to steer a cruise ship through, but they'd been ripped off their hinges and smashed like they weighed nothing. We had to climb over a huge pile of broken stone and twisted metal to get inside.

Kronos stood in the middle of the throne room, his arms wide, staring at the starry ceiling as if taking it all in. His laughter echoed even louder than it had from the pit of Tartarus.

"Finally!" he bellowed. "The Olympian Council—so proud and mighty. Which seat of power shall I destroy first?"

Ethan Nakamura stood to one side, trying to stay out of the way of his master's scythe. The hearth was almost dead, just a few coals glowing deep in the ashes. Hestia was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Rachel. The Ophiotaurus swam in his water sphere in the far corner of the room, wisely not making a sound, but it wouldn't be long before Kronos noticed him.

Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and I stepped forward into the torchlight. Ethan saw us first.

"My lord," he warned.

Kronos turned and smiled through Luke's face. Except for the golden eyes, he looked just the same as he had four years ago. Annabeth made a painful sound in the back of her throat, like someone had just sucker punched her.

"Shall I destroy you first, Jackson?" Kronos asked. "Is that the choice you will make—to fight me and die instead of bowing down? Prophecies never end well, you know."

"Luke would fight with a sword," Percy said. "But I suppose you don't have his skill."

Kronos sneered. His scythe began to change, until he held Luke's old weapon, Backbiter, with its half-steel, half-Celestial bronze blade.

I gasped. "Percy, the blade!" I drew Nikao. "The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap."

Kronos raised his sword.

"Wait!" I yelled.

Kronos came at Percy like a whirlwind.

Percy dodged and slashed and rolled. Ethan ducked to one side, trying to get behind Percy until I intercepted him. My instincts took over. I was vaguely aware of Grover playing his reed pipes. The sound filled me with warmth and courage—thoughts of sunlight and a blue sky and a calm meadow, somewhere far away from the war.

Kronos backed Percy up against the throne of Hephaestus—a huge mechanical La-Z-Boy type thing covered with bronze and silver gears. Kronos slashed, and Percy managed to jump straight up onto the seat. The throne whirred and hummed with secret mechanisms.

Percy jumped straight over Kronos's head as the throne shot tendrils of electricity in all directions. One hit Kronos in the face, arcing down his body and up his sword.

"ARG!" He crumpled to his knees and dropped Backbiter.

Annabeth saw her chance. She charged Kronos. "Luke, listen!"

Kronos flicked his hand. She flew backward, slamming into the throne of Athena and crumpling to the floor.

"Annabeth!" I screamed. I kicked Ethan out of the way and ran towards her.

Ethan Nakamura got to his feet again.

 

Grover's music took on a more urgent tune. He moved toward us, but he couldn't go any faster and keep up the song. Grass grew on the floor of the throne room. Tiny roots crept up between the cracks of the marble stones.

Kronos rose to one knee. His hair smoldered. His face was covered with electrical burns. He reached for his sword, but this time it didn't fly into his hands.

"Nakamura!" he groaned. "Time to prove yourself. You know Jackson's secret weakness. Kill him, and you will have rewards beyond measure."

"Look around you, Ethan," Percy said. "The end of the world. Is this the reward you want? Do you really want everything destroyed—the good with the bad? Everything?"

Grover was almost to us now. The grass thickened on the floor. The roots were almost a foot long, like a stubble of whiskers.

"There is no throne to Nemesis," Ethan muttered. "No throne to my mother."

"That's right!" Kronos tried to get up, but stumbled. Above his left ear, a patch of blond hair still smoldered. "Strike them down! They deserve to suffer."

"You said your mom is the goddess of balance," Percy reminded him. "The minor gods deserve better, Ethan, but total destruction isn't balance. Kronos doesn't build. He only destroys."

Ethan looked at the sizzling throne of Hephaestus. Grover's music kept playing, and Ethan swayed to it, as if the song were filling him with nostalgia—a wish to see a beautiful day, to be anywhere but here. His good eye blinked.

Then he charged... but not at Percy.

While Kronos was still on his knees, Ethan brought down his sword on the Titan lord's neck. It should have killed him instantly, but the blade shattered. Ethan fell back, grasping his stomach. A shard of his own blade had ricocheted and pierced his armor.

Kronos rose unsteadily, towering over his servant. "Treason," he snarled.

Grover's music kept playing, and grass grew around Ethan's body. Ethan stared at Percy, his face tight with pain.

"Deserve better," he gasped. "If they just... had thrones—"

Kronos stomped his foot, and the floor ruptured around Ethan Nakamura. The son of Nemesis fell through a fissure that went straight through the heart of the mountain—straight into open air.

"So much for him." Kronos picked up his sword. "And now for the rest of you."

Grover was at Annabeth's side now. He'd stopped playing and was feeding her ambrosia. I watched Kronos and Percy. I didn't want to leave Annabeth's side.

Everywhere Kronos stepped, the roots wrapped around his feet, but Grover had stopped his magic too early. The roots weren't thick or strong enough to do much more than annoy the Titan.

They fought through the hearth, kicking up coals and sparks. Kronos slashed an armrest off the throne of Ares, then he backed Percy up to Poseidon's throne.

"Oh, yes," Kronos said. "This one will make fine kindling for my new hearth!"

Their blades clashed in a shower of sparks. Percy pushed him back and struck again—slashing Riptide across his breastplate so hard he cut a gash in the Celestial bronze.

He stamped his foot again and time slowed. Percy tried to attack but he was moving at the speed of a glacier. Kronos backed up leisurely, catching his breath. He examined the gash in his armor while Percy struggled forward.

"It's too late, Percy Jackson," he said. "Behold."

He pointed to the hearth, and the coals glowed. A sheet of white smoke poured from the fire, forming images like an Iris-message. I saw Nico and Paul and Percy's mom down on Fifth Avenue, fighting a hopeless battle, ringed in enemies. In the background Hades fought from his black chariot, summoning wave after wave of zombies out of the ground, but the forces of the Titan's army seemed just as endless. Meanwhile, Manhattan was being destroyed. Mortals, now fully awake, were running in terror. Cars swerved and crashed.

The scene shifted, and I saw something even more terrifying.

A column of storm was approaching the Hudson River, moving rapidly over the Jersey shore. Chariots circled it, locked in combat with the creature in the cloud.

The gods attacked. Lightning flashed. Arrows of gold and silver streaked into the cloud like rocket tracers and exploded. Slowly, the cloud ripped apart, and I saw Typhon clearly for the first time.

Typhon's head shifted constantly. Every moment he was a different monster, each more horrible than the last. He was humanoid, but his skin reminded me of a meat loaf sandwich that had been in someone's locker all year. He was mottled green, with blisters the size of buildings, and blackened patches from eons of being stuck under a volcano. His hands were human, but with talons like an eagle's. His legs were scaly and reptilian.

"The Olympians are giving their final effort." Kronos laughed. "How pathetic."

Zeus threw a thunderbolt from his chariot. The blast lit up the world. I could feel the shock even here on Olympus, but when the dust cleared, Typhon was still standing. He staggered a bit, with a smoking crater on top of his misshapen head, but he roared in anger and kept advancing.

Typhon stepped into the Hudson River and barely sank to midcalf.

A conch horn sounded from the smoky picture. The call of the ocean. The call of Poseidon.

All around Typhon, the Hudson River erupted, churning with forty-foot waves. Out of the water burst a new chariot—this one pulled by massive hippocampi, who swam in air as easily as in water. Poseidon, glowing with a blue aura of power, rode a defiant circle around the giant's legs. Poseidon was no longer an old man. He looked like himself again—tan and strong with a black beard. As he swung his trident, the river responded, making a funnel cloud around the monster.

"No!" Kronos bellowed after a moment of stunned silence. "NO!"

"NOW, MY BRETHREN!" Poseidon's voice was so loud I wasn't sure if I was hearing it from the smoke image or from all the way across town. "STRIKE FOR OLYMPUS!"

Warriors burst out of the river, riding the waves on huge sharks and dragons and sea horses. It was a legion of Cyclopes, and leading them into battle was...

"Tyson!" Percy yelled.

He'd magically grown in size. He had to be thirty feet tall, as big as any of his older cousins, and for the first time he was wearing full battle armor. Riding behind him was Briares, the Hundred-Handed One.

All the Cyclopes held huge lengths of black iron chains—big enough to anchor a battleship—with grappling hooks at the ends. They swung them like lassos and began to ensnare Typhon, throwing lines around the creature's legs and arms, using the tide to keep circling, slowly tangling him. Typhon shook and roared and yanked at the chains, pulling some of the Cyclopes off their mounts; but there were too many chains. The sheer weight of the Cyclops battalion began to weigh Typhon down. Poseidon threw his trident and impaled the monster in the throat. Golden blood, immortal ichor, spewed from the wound, making a waterfall taller than a skyscraper. The trident flew back to Poseidon's hand.

The other gods struck with renewed force. Ares rode in and stabbed Typhon in the nose. Artemis shot the monster in the eye with a dozen silver arrows. Apollo shot a blazing volley of arrows and set the monster's loincloth on fire. And Zeus kept pounding the giant with lightning, until finally, slowly, the water rose, wrapping Typhon like a cocoon, and he began to sink under the weight of the chains. Typhon bellowed in agony, thrashing with such force that waves sloshed the Jersey shore, soaking five-story buildings and splashing over the George Washington Bridge—but down he went as Poseidon opened a special tunnel for him at the bottom of the river—an endless waterslide that would take him straight to Tartarus. The giant's head went under in a seething whirlpool, and he was gone.

"BAH!" Kronos screamed. He slashed his sword through the smoke, tearing the image to shreds.

"They're on their way," I said. "You've lost."

"I haven't even started."

He advanced with blinding speed. Grover—brave, stupid satyr that he was—tried to protect him, but Kronos tossed him aside like a rag doll.

Percy sidestepped and jabbed under Kronos's guard. He countered the strike and disarmed Percy. Percy's sword skittered across the ground and fell straight into the open fissure.

"STOP!" I yelled, walking towards them.

Kronos whirled to face me and slashed with Backbiter, but I caught the strike on my sword hilt. I stepped in closer for leverage, our blades crossed, and for a moment I stood face-to-face with the Titan lord, holding him at a standstill.

"Luke," I said, gritting my teeth, "I understand now. You have to trust me."

Kronos roared in outrage. "Luke Castellan is dead! His body will burn away as I assume my true form!"

Kronos pushed against me, trying to dislodge his blade, but I held him in check, my arms trembling as he forced his sword down toward my neck.

"Your mother," I grunted. "She saw your fate."

"Service to Kronos!" the Titan roared. "This is my fate."

"No!" I insisted. "That's not the end, Luke. The prophecy: she saw what you would do. It applies to you!"

"I will crush you!" Kronos bellowed.

"You won't," I said. "You promised. You're holding Kronos back even now."

"LIES!" Kronos pushed again, and this time I lost my balance. With his free hand, Kronos struck my face, and I slid backward. My face stung.

Kronos loomed over me, his sword raised.

Ichor trickled from the corner of my mouth. I croaked, "Luke. You promised."

Kronos staggered.

Then he gasped like he couldn't get air. "Ariana..." But it wasn't the Titan's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward like he couldn't control his own body. "You're bleeding..."

"The knife." I tried to point at Annabeth's knife, but I couldn't gather to strength. I looked at Percy, imploring, "Percy, please..."

Percy surged forward and scooped up her knife. He knocked Backbiter out of Luke's hand, and it spun into the hearth. Luke hardly paid him any attention. He stepped toward me, but Percy put himself between him and me.

"Don't touch her," Percy said.

Kronos's voice growled: "Jackson..."

He gasped again. Luke's voice: "He's changing. Help. He's... he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please—"

"NO!" Kronos bellowed. He looked around for his sword, but it was in the hearth, glowing among the coals.

He stumbled toward it. Percy tried to stop him, but he pushed him out of the way with such force he landed next to Annabeth and cracked his head on the base of Athena's throne.

"The knife, Percy," I muttered. I could feel the strength that I had left leaving me. "Hero... cursed blade..."

I saw Kronos grasping his sword. Then he bellowed in pain and dropped it. His hands were smoking and seared. The hearth fire had grown red-hot, like the scythe wasn't compatible with it. I saw an image of Hestia flickering in the ashes, frowning at Kronos with disapproval.

Luke turned and collapsed, clutching his ruined hands. "Please, Percy..."

Percy struggled to his feet. He moved toward him with the knife.

Luke moistened his lips. "You can't... can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can... can keep him controlled."

He was glowing now, his skin starting to smoke.

Percy raised the knife to strike. Then he looked at us.

"Please," Luke groaned. "No time."

Percy gave the knife to Luke.

Grover yelped. "Percy? Are you... um..."

Luke grasped the hilt.

He unlatched the side straps of his armor, exposing a small bit of his skin just under his left arm, a place that would be very hard to hit. With difficulty, he stabbed himself.

It wasn't a deep cut, but Luke howled. His eyes glowed like lava. The throne room shook. An aura of energy surrounded Luke, growing brighter and brighter. I shut my eyes and felt a force like a nuclear explosion blister my skin and crack my lips.

It was silent for a long time.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Luke sprawled at the hearth. On the floor around him was a blackened circle of ash. Kronos's scythe had liquefied into molten metal and was trickling into the coals of the hearth, which now glowed like a blacksmith's furnace.

Luke's left side was bloody. His eyes were open—blue eyes, the way they used to be. His breath was a deep rattle.

"Good... blade," he croaked.

Percy knelt next to him. Grover helped Annabeth and I up and I limped over.

Luke gazed at me. "You knew. I almost killed you, but you knew..."

"Shhh." My voice trembled. "You were a hero at the end, Luke. You'll go to Elysium."

He shook his head weakly. "Think... rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest."

Annabeth sniffled. "You always pushed yourself too hard."

"Ariana... did you...." Luke coughed and his lips glistened red. "Did you love me?"

I looked at Percy, drinking in the fact that he was still here. The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that he was alive.

"You were like a brother to me, Luke," I said softly. "But I didn't love you."

He nodded, as if he'd expected it. He winced in pain.

"We can get ambrosia," Grover said. "We can—"

"Grover," Luke gulped. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no healing..." Another cough.

He gripped Percy's sleeve. "Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it... Don't let it happen again."

His eyes were angry, but pleading too.

"I won't," Percy said. "I promise."

Luke nodded, and his hand went slack.

The gods arrived a few minutes later in their full war regalia, thundering into the throne room and expecting a battle.

What they found were Annabeth, Grover, Percy, and me standing over the body of a broken half-blood, in the dim warm light of the hearth.

"Percy," Poseidon called, awe in his voice. "What... what is this?"

We turned and faced the Olympians.

"We need a shroud," Percy announced, his voice cracking. "A shroud for the son of Hermes."


	82. 82

The Three Fates themselves took Luke's body.

I hadn't seen the old ladies in years, since I'd witnessed them snip a life thread at a roadside fruit stand when I was younger.

One of The Fates held up the snippet of blue yarn—and I knew it was the same one I'd seen four years ago, the lifeline I'd watched them snip. I realized it was Luke's.

They gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green shroud, and began carrying it out of the throne room.

"Wait," Hermes said.

The messenger god was dressed in his classic outfit of white Greek robes, sandals, and helmet. The wings of his helm fluttered as he walked. The snakes George and Martha curled around his caduceus, murmuring, Luke, poor Luke.

Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek—a final blessing.

"Farewell," he whispered. Then he nodded and allowed the Fates to carry away his son's body.

Annabeth's knees buckled. I caught her, but I couldn't hold on for long. She cried out in pain.

"Oh gods," I said. "Annabeth, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said as she passed out in my arms.

"She needs help!" Percy yelled.

"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of medicine, at your service."

He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her cuts and scars disappeared.

Apollo grinned. "She'll be fine in a few minutes. Just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: 'Apollo and his friends save Olympus.' Good, eh?"

"Thanks, Apollo," I said. "I'll, um, let you handle the poetry."

The next few hours were a blur. Zeus didn't even blink an eye when Percy told him his strange request. He snapped his fingers and informed him that the top of the Empire State Building was now lit up blue.

Apollo healed me and I felt my strength returning. Aphrodite changed my outfit. Then, the gods set about repairing the throne room, which went surprisingly fast with twelve superpowerful beings at work. Grover, Percy, and I cared for the wounded, and once the sky bridge re-formed, we greeted our friends who had survived. The Cyclopes had saved Thalia from the fallen statue. She was on crutches, but otherwise she was okay. Connor and Travis Stoll had made it through with only minor injuries. Mrs. O'Leary had dug Chiron out of the rubble and rushed him off to camp. The Stolls looked kind of worried about the old centaur, but at least he was alive. Katie Gardner reported that she'd seen Rachel Elizabeth Dare run out of the Empire State Building at the end of the battle. Rachel had looked unharmed, but nobody knew where she'd gone.

Nico di Angelo came into Olympus to a hero's welcome, his father right behind him, despite the fact that Hades was only supposed to visit Olympus on winter solstice. The god of the dead looked stunned when his relatives clapped him on the back. I doubt he'd ever gotten such an enthusiastic welcome before.

Clarisse marched in, still shivering from her time in the ice block, and Ares bellowed, "There's my girl!"

The god of war ruffled her hair and pounded her on the back, calling her the best warrior he'd ever seen. "That drakon-slaying? THAT'S what I'm talking about!"

She looked pretty overwhelmed. All she could do was nod and blink, like she was afraid he'd start hitting her, but eventually she began to smile.

 

Conch horns blew. The army of Poseidon marched into the throne room.

 

"Percy!" Tyson yelled. He charged toward Percy with his arms open. He'd shrunk back to normal size.

 

"You are not dead!" he said.

"Yeah!" Percy agreed. "Amazing, huh?"

He clapped his hands and laughed happily. "I am not dead either. Yay! We chained Typhon. It was fun!"

Behind him, fifty other armored Cyclopes laughed and nodded and gave each other high fives.

"Tyson led us," one rumbled. "He is brave!"

"Bravest of the Cyclopes!" another bellowed.

Tyson blushed. "Was nothing."

"I saw you!" I said, running up to them. "You were incredible!"

I thought poor Grover would pass out. He's deathly afraid of Cyclopes. But he steeled his nerves and said, "Yes. Um... three cheers for Tyson!"

"YAAARRRRR!" the Cyclopes roared.

"Please don't eat me," Grover muttered, but I don't think anyone heard him.

The conch horns blasted again. The Cyclopes parted, and Poseidon strode into the throne room in his battle armor, his trident glowing in his hands.

"Tyson!" he roared. "Well done, my son. And Percy—" His face turned stern. He wagged his finger at him. "I even forgive you for sitting on my throne. You have saved Olympus!"

He held out his arms and gave Percy a hug.

When he pulled away, he smiled kindly at him.

"Dad—"

"Shhh," he said. "No hero is above fear, Percy. And you have risen above every hero. Not even Hercules—"

"POSEIDON!" a voice roared.

Zeus had taken his throne. He glared across the room at Poseidon while all the other gods filed in and took their seats. Even Hades was present, sitting on a simple stone guest chair at the foot of the hearth. Nico sat cross-legged on the ground at his dad's feet.

"Well, Poseidon?" Zeus grumped. "Are you too proud to join us in council, my brother?"

I thought Poseidon was going to get mad. "I would be honored, Lord Zeus."

I guess miracles do happen. Poseidon strode over to his fishing seat, and the Olympian Council convened.

While Zeus was talking—some long speech about the bravery of the gods, etc.—Annabeth walked in and stood next to me. She looked good for someone who'd recently passed out.

"Miss much?" she whispered.

"Nobody's planning to kill us, so far," Percy whispered back.

"First time today."

I cracked up, but Grover nudged me because Hera was giving us a dirty look.

"As for my brothers," Zeus said, "we are thankful"—he cleared his throat like the words were hard to get out—"erm, thankful for the aid of Hades."

The lord of the dead nodded. He had a smug look on his face, but I figure he'd earned the right. He patted his son Nico on the shoulders, and Nico looked happier than I'd ever seen him.

"And, of course," Zeus continued, though he looked like his pants were smoldering, "we must... um... thank Poseidon."

"I'm sorry, brother," Poseidon said. "What was that?"

"We must thank Poseidon," Zeus growled. "Without whom... it would've been difficult—"

"Difficult?" Poseidon asked innocently.

"Impossible," Zeus said. "Impossible to defeat Typhon."

The gods murmured agreement and pounded their weapons in approval.

"Which leaves us," Zeus said, "only the matter of thanking our young demigod heroes and daughter, who defended Olympus so well—even if there are a few dents in my throne."

He called Thalia forward first, since she was his daughter, and promised her help in filling the Hunters' ranks.

Artemis smiled. "You have done well, my lieutenant. You have made me proud, and all those Hunters who perished in my service will never be forgotten. They will achieve Elysium, I am sure."

She glared pointedly at Hades.

He shrugged. "Probably."

Artemis glared at him some more.

"Okay," Hades grumbled. "I'll streamline their application process."

Thalia beamed with pride. "Thank you, my lady." She bowed to the gods, even Hades, and then limped over to stand by Artemis's side.

"Tyson, son of Poseidon!" Zeus called. Tyson looked nervous, but he went to stand in the middle of the Council, and Zeus grunted.

"Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general in the armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead your brethren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new... um... what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?"

"Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club.

"Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."

"Hooray!" Tyson cried, and all the Cyclopes cheered and pounded him on the back as he rejoined them.

"Grover Underwood of the satyrs!" Dionysus called.

Grover came forward nervously.

"Oh, stop chewing your shirt," Dionysus chided. "Honestly, I'm not going to blast you. For your bravery and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah, and since we have an unfortunate vacancy, the gods have seen fit to name you a member of the Council of Cloven Elders."

Grover collapsed on the spot.

"Oh, wonderful," Dionysus sighed, as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well, when he wakes up, someone tell him that he will no longer be an outcast, and that all satyrs, naiads, and other spirits of nature will henceforth treat him as a lord of the Wild, with all rights, privileges, and honors, blah, blah, blah. Now please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts groveling."

"FOOOOOD," Grover moaned, as the nature spirits carried him away.

I figured he'd be okay. He would wake up as a lord of the Wild with a bunch of beautiful naiads taking care of him. Life could be worse.

Athena called, "Annabeth Chase, my own daughter."

Annabeth squeezed my arm, then walked forward and knelt at her mother's feet.

Athena smiled. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympus is... well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements."

Annabeth looked up, stunned. "My... my lady?"

Athena smiled wryly. "You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?"

"You mean... I can design whatever I want?"

"As your heart desires," the goddess said. "Make us a city for the ages."

"As long as you have plenty of statues of me," Apollo added.

"And me," Aphrodite agreed.

"Hey, and me!" Ares said. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and—"

"All right!" Athena interrupted. "She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympus."

Annabeth rose in a trance and walked back toward me.

"Way to go," Percy told her.

For once she was at a loss for words. "I'll... I'll have to start planning... Drafting paper, and, um, pencils—"

"Ariana!" Zeus called. I walked forward and stood in front of Zeus, smiling.

"You did very well, as usual," Zeus said. "We have decided that you stay on Olympus for most of the year. In the redesign of Olympus, you will have a room."

I smiled widely and walked back to stand with Annabeth and Percy.

"PERCY JACKSON!" Poseidon announced.

 

All talking died down. The room was silent except for the crackle of the hearth fire. Percy walked into the middle of the throne room.

First he bowed to Zeus. Then he knelt at Poseidon's feet.

"Rise, my son," Poseidon said.

Percy stood.

"A great hero must be rewarded," Poseidon said. "Is there anyone here who would deny that my son is deserving?"

Not a single one protested.

"The Council agrees," Zeus said. "Percy Jackson, you will have one gift from the gods."

Percy hesitated. "Any gift?"

Zeus nodded.

 

"Do you promise to grant my wish?" Percy asked.

Zeus thought about this. "If it is within our power."

"It is," Percy said. "And it's not even difficult. But I need your promise on the River Styx."

"What?" Dionysus cried. "You don't trust us?"

"Someone once told me," Percy said, looking at Hades, "you should always get a solemn oath."

Hades shrugged. "Guilty."

"Very well!" Zeus growled. "In the name of the Council, we swear by the River Styx to grant your reasonable request as long as it is within our power."

The other gods muttered assent. Thunder boomed, shaking the throne room. The deal was made.

"From now on, I want to you properly recognize the children of the gods," Percy said. "All the children... of all the gods."

The Olympians shifted uncomfortably.

"Percy," Poseidon said, "what exactly do you mean?"

"Kronos couldn't have risen if it hadn't been for a lot of demigods who felt abandoned by their parents," Percy said. "They felt angry, resentful, and unloved, and they had a good reason."

Zeus's royal nostrils flared. "You dare accuse—"

"No more undetermined children," Percy said. "I want you to promise to claim your children—all your demigod children—by the time they turn thirteen. They won't be left out in the world on their own at the mercy of monsters. I want them claimed and brought to camp so they can be trained right, and survive."

"Now, wait just a moment," Apollo said.

"And the minor gods," Percy said. "Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe—they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn't be ignored. Calypso and the other peaceful Titan-kind should be pardoned too. And Hades—"

"Are you calling me a minor god?" Hades bellowed.

"No, my lord," Percy said quickly. "But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that. No unclaimed demigods will be crammed into the Hermes cabin anymore, wondering who their parents are. They'll have their own cabins, for all the gods. And no more pact of the Big Three. That didn't work anyway. You've got to stop trying to get rid of powerful demigods. We're going to train them and accept them instead. All children of the gods will be welcome and treated with respect. That is my wish."

Zeus snorted. "Is that all?"

"Percy," Poseidon said, "you ask much. You presume much."

"I hold you to your oath," Percy said. "All of you."

Athena spoke up: "The boy is correct. We have been unwise to ignore our children. It proved a strategic weakness in this war and almost caused our destruction. Percy Jackson, I have had my doubts about you, but perhaps"—she glanced at me, and then spoke as if the words had a sour taste—"perhaps I was mistaken. I move that we accept the boy's plan."

"Humph," Zeus said. "Being told what to do by a mere child. But I suppose..."

"All in favor," Hermes said.

All the gods raised their hands.

"Um, thanks," Percy said.

He turned, but before he could leave, Poseidon called, "Honor guard!"

Immediately the Cyclopes came forward and made two lines from the thrones to the door—an aisle for Percy to walk through. They came to attention.

"All hail, Perseus Jackson," Tyson said. "Hero of Olympus... and my big brother!"


	83. 83

Annabeth, Percy, and I were on our way out when Percy said, "I'll meet you at the elevator."

"You sure?" I studied his face. "Yeah, you're sure."

 

* * *

Annabeth and I were waiting for Percy at the elevator. "Why do you smell like smoke?" I asked.

"Long story," Percy said. We made our way down to the street level. None of us said a word. The music was awful—Neil Diamond or something.

When we got into the lobby, we found Percy's mother and Paul arguing with the bald security guy, who'd returned to his post.

"I'm telling you," Percy's mom yelled, "we have to go up! My son—" Then she saw Percy and her eyes widened. "Percy!"

She hugged him.

"We saw the building lit up blue," she said. "But then you didn't come down. You went up hours ago!"

"She was getting a bit anxious," Paul said dryly.

"I'm all right," Percy promised as his mom hugged Annabeth and I. "Everything's okay now."

"Paul," I said, "that was wicked sword work."

Paul shrugged. "It seemed like the thing to do. But Percy, is this really... I mean, this story about the six hundredth floor?"

"Olympus," Percy said. "Yeah."

Paul looked at the ceiling with a dreamy expression. "I'd like to see that."

"Paul," Percy's mom chided. "It's not for mortals. Anyway, the important thing is we're safe. All of us."

Just then Nico ran in from the street, and his face told me something was wrong.

"It's Rachel," he said. "I just ran into her down on 32nd Street."

Annabeth frowned. "What's she done this time?"

"It's where she's gone," Nico said. "I told her she would die if she tried, but she insisted. She just took Blackjack and—"

"She took my pegasus?" Percy demanded.

Nico nodded. "She's heading to Half-Blood Hill. She said she had to get to camp."


	84. 84

"What was she thinking?" I said as we ran for the river.

The traffic was horrible. Everybody was out on the streets gawking at the war zone damage. Police sirens wailed on every block. There was no possibility of catching a cab, and the pegasi had flown away. I would've settled for some Party Ponies, but they had disappeared along with most of the root beer in Midtown. So we ran, pushing through mobs of dazed mortals that clogged the sidewalks.

"She'll never get through the defenses," I said. "Peleus will eat her."

"We've got to hurry." Percy glanced at Nico. "I don't suppose you could conjure up some skeleton horses."

He wheezed as he ran. "So tired... couldn't summon a dog bone."

Finally we scrambled over the embankment to the shore, and Percy let out a loud whistle.

Three wake lines appeared in the gray water, and a pod of hippocampi broke the surface. They whinnied unhappily, shaking the river muck from their manes. They were beautiful creatures, with multicolored fish tails, and the heads and forelegs of white stallions. The hippocampus in front was much bigger than the others—a ride fit for a Cyclops.

"Rainbow!" Percy called. "How's it going, buddy?"

He neighed a complaint.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," Percy said. "But it's an emergency. We need to get to camp."

He snorted.

"Tyson?" Percy said. "Tyson is fine! I'm sorry he's not here. He's a big general now in the Cyclops army."

"NEEEEIGGGGH!"

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll still bring you apples. Now, about that ride..."

In no time, Annabeth, Nico, Percy, and and I were zipping up the East River faster than Jet Skis. We sped under the Throgs Neck Bridge and headed for Long Island Sound.

It seemed like forever until we saw the beach at camp. We thanked the hippocampi and waded ashore, only to find Argus waiting for us. He stood in the sand with his arms crossed, his hundred eyes glaring at us.

"Is she here?" Percy asked.

He nodded grimly.

"Is everything okay?" Annabeth said.

Argus shook his head.

We followed him up the trail. It was surreal being back at camp, because everything looked so peaceful: no burning buildings, no wounded fighters. The cabins were bright in the sunshine, and the fields glittered with dew. But the place was mostly empty.

Up at the Big House, something was definitely wrong. Green light was shooting out all the windows. Mist—the magical kind—swirled around the yard. Chiron lay on a horse-size stretcher by the volleyball pit, a bunch of satyrs standing around him. Blackjack cantered nervously in the grass.

Don't blame me! he pleaded when he saw Percy. The weird girl made me do it!

Rachel Elizabeth Dare stood at the bottom of the porch steps. Her arms were raised like she was waiting for someone inside the house to throw her a ball.

"What's she doing?" I demanded. "How did she get past the barriers?"

"She flew," one of the satyrs said, looking accusingly at Blackjack. "Right past the dragon, right through the magic boundaries."

"Rachel!" Percy called, but the satyrs stopped him when he tried to go any closer.

"Percy, don't," Chiron warned. He winced as he tried to move. His left arm was in a sling, his two back legs were in splints, and his head was wrapped in bandages. "You can't interrupt."

"I thought you explained things to her!"

"I did. And I invited her here."

"You said you'd never let anyone try again! You said—" Percy said.

"I know what I said, Percy. But I was wrong. Rachel had a vision about the curse of Hades. She believes it may be lifted now. She convinced me she deserves a chance."

"And if the curse isn't lifted? If Hades hasn't gotten to that yet, she'll go crazy!"

The Mist swirled around Rachel. She shivered like she was going into shock.

"Hey!" Percy shouted. "Stop!"

He ran toward her, ignoring the satyrs. Percy got within ten feet and hit something. He bounced back and landed in the grass.

Rachel opened her eyes and turned. She looked like she was sleepwalking.

"It's all right." Her voice sounded far away. "This is why I've come."

"You'll be destroyed!"

She shook her head. "This is where I belong, Percy. I finally understand why."

The house rumbled. The door flew open and green light poured out.

Mist curled into a hundred smoky serpents, slithering up the porch columns, curling around the house. Then the Oracle appeared in the doorway.

The withered mummy shuffled forward in her rainbow dress. She looked even worse than usual, which is saying a lot. Her hair was falling out in clumps. Her leathery skin was cracking like the seat of a worn-out bus. Her glassy eyes stared blankly into space, but I got the creepiest feeling she was being drawn straight toward Rachel.

Rachel held out her arms. She didn't look scared.

"You've waited too long," Rachel said. "But I'm here now."

The sun blazed more brightly. A man appeared above the porch, floating in the air—a blond dude in a white toga, with sunglasses and a cocky smile.

"Apollo," I said.

He winked at me but held up his finger to his lips.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare," he said. "You have the gift of prophecy. But it is also a curse. Are you sure you want this?"

Rachel nodded. "It's my destiny."

"Do you accept the risks?"

"I do."

"Then proceed," the god said.

Rachel closed her eyes. "I accept this role. I pledge myself to Apollo, God of Oracles. I open my eyes to the future and embrace the past. I accept the spirit of Delphi, Voice of the Gods, Speaker of Riddles, Seer of Fate."

I didn't know where she was getting the words, but they flowed out of her as the Mist thickened. A green column of smoke, like a huge python, uncoiled from the mummy's mouth and slithered down the stairs, curling affectionately around Rachel's feet. The Oracle's mummy crumbled, falling away until it was nothing but a pile of dust in an old tie-dyed dress. Mist enveloped Rachel in a column.

For a moment I couldn't see her at all. Then the smoke cleared.

Rachel collapsed and curled into the fetal position. Annabeth, Nico, Percy, and I rushed forward, but Apollo said, "Stop! This is the most delicate part."

"What's going on?" Percy demanded. "What do you mean?"

Apollo studied Rachel with concern. "Either the spirit takes hold, or it doesn't."

"And if it doesn't?" I asked.

"Five syllables," Apollo said, counting them on his fingers. "That would be real bad."

Despite Apollo's warning, Percy ran forward and knelt over Rachel. The Mist sank into the ground and the green light faded. But Rachel was still pale. She was barely breathing.

Then her eyes fluttered open. "Percy."

"Are you okay?"

She tried to sit up. "Ow." She pressed her hands to her temples.

"Rachel," Nico said, "your life aura almost faded completely. I could see you dying."

"I'm all right," she murmured. "Please, help me up. The visions—they're a little disorienting."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Percy asked.

Apollo drifted down from the porch. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the new Oracle of Delphi."

"You're kidding," Annabeth said.

Rachel managed a weak smile. "It's a little surprising to me too, but this is my fate. I saw it when I was in New York. I know why I was born with true sight. I was meant to become the Oracle."

Percy blinked. "You mean you can tell the future now?"

"Not all the time," she said. "But there are visions, images, words in my mind. When someone asks me a question, I... Oh no—"

"It's starting," Apollo announced.

Rachel doubled over like someone had punched her. Then she stood up straight and her eyes glowed serpent green.

When she spoke, her voice sounded tripled—like three Rachels were talking at once:

"Eight shall answer the call.

To storm or fire, the world must fall.

An oath to keep with a final breath,

And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."

At the last word, Rachel collapsed. Nico and Percy caught her and helped her to the porch.

 

"I'm all right," she said, her voice returning to normal.

"What was that?" Percy asked.

She shook her head, confused. "What was what?"

"I believe," Apollo said, "that we just heard the next Great Prophecy."

"What does it mean?" Percy demanded.

Rachel frowned. "I don't even remember what I said."

"No," Apollo mused. "The spirit will only speak through you occasionally. The rest of the time, our Rachel will be much as she's always been. There's no point in grilling her, even if she has just issued the next big prediction for the future of the world."

"What?" Percy said. "But—"

"Percy," Apollo said, "I wouldn't worry too much. The last Great Prophecy about you took almost seventy years to complete. This one may not even happen in your lifetime."

"Maybe," Percy said, "but it didn't sound so good."

"No," said Apollo cheerfully. "It certainly didn't. She's going to make a wonderful Oracle!"

Apollo insisted that Rachel needed to rest, and she did look pretty disoriented.

"I'm sorry, Percy," she said. "Back on Olympus, I didn't explain everything to you, but the calling frightened me. I didn't think you'd understand."

"I still don't," Percy admitted. "But I guess I'm happy for you."

Rachel smiled. "Happy probably isn't the right word. Seeing the future isn't going to be easy, but it's my destiny. I only hope my family..."

She didn't finish her thought.

"Will you still go to Clarion Academy?" Percy asked.

"I made a promise to my father. I guess I'll try to be a normal kid during the school year, but—"

"But right now you need sleep," Apollo scolded. "Chiron, I don't think the attic is the proper place for our new Oracle, do you?"

"No, indeed." Chiron looked a lot better now that Apollo had worked some medical magic on him. "Rachel may use a guest room in the Big House for now, until we give the matter more thought."

"I'm thinking a cave in the hills," Apollo mused. "With torches and a big purple curtain over the entrance... really mysterious. But inside, a totally decked-out pad with a game room and one of those home theater systems."

Chiron cleared his throat loudly.

"What?" Apollo demanded.

Rachel kissed Percy on the cheek and said something to him.

Percy blushed. "No."

"Good," she said. Then she turned and followed Apollo into the Big House.

The rest of the day was as strange as the beginning. Campers trickled in from New York by car, pegasus, and chariot. The wounded were cared for. The dead were given proper funeral rites at the campfire.

Silena's shroud was hot pink, but embroidered with an electric spear. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins both claimed her as a hero, and lit the shroud together. No one mentioned the word spy. That secret burned to ashes as the designer perfume smoke drifted into the sky.

Even Ethan Nakamura was given a shroud—black silk with a logo of swords crossed under a set of scales. As his shroud went up in flames, I hoped Ethan knew he had made a difference in the end. He'd paid a lot more than an eye, but the minor gods would finally get the respect they deserved.

Dinner at the pavilion was low-key. The only highlight was Juniper the tree nymph, who screamed, "Grover!" and gave her boyfriend a flying tackle hug, making everybody cheer. They went down to the beach to take a moonlit walk, and I was happy for them, though the scene reminded me of Silena and Beckendorf, which made me sad.

Mrs. O'Leary romped around happily, eating everybody's table scraps. Nico sat at the main table with Chiron, Dionysus, and I, and nobody seemed to think this was out of place. Everybody was patting Nico on the back, complimenting him on his fighting. Even the Ares kids seemed to think he was pretty cool. Show up with an army of undead warriors to save the day, and suddenly you're everybody's best friend.

Slowly, the dinner crowd trickled away. Some went to the campfire for a sing-along. Others went to bed. I saw Percy sitting at the Poseidon table by himself.

"Hey." I slid next to him on the bench. "Happy birthday."

I was holding a huge misshapen cupcake with blue icing.

Percy stared at me. "What?"

"It's August 18th," I said. "Your birthday, right?"

"Yeah..." Percy trailed off.

"Make a wish," I said.

"Did you bake this yourself?" Percy asked.

"Tyson and Annabeth helped."

"That explains why it looks like a chocolate brick," Percy said. "With extra blue cement."

I laughed.

Percy thought for a second, then blew out the candle.

We cut it in half and shared, eating with our fingers. Percy sat next to me, and we watched the ocean. Crickets and monsters were making noise in the woods, but otherwise it was quiet.

"You saved the world," I said.

"We saved the world."

"And Rachel is the new Oracle, which means she won't be dating anybody."

"You don't sound disappointed," Percy noticed.

I shrugged. "Oh, I don't care."

"Uh-huh."

I raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say to me?"

"You'd probably kick my butt."

"You know I'd kick your butt."

"When I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable... Nico said I had to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world, that made me want to stay mortal."

"Anyone in particular?" I asked, my voice soft.

I was trying not to smile.

"You're laughing at me," Percy complained.

"I am not!"

"You are so not making this easy."

Then I laughed for real, and I put my hands around his neck. "I am never, ever going to make things easy for you. Get used to it."

I kissed him.

I could've stayed that way forever, except a voice behind us growled, "Well, it's about time!"

Suddenly the pavilion was filled with torchlight and campers. Clarisse led the way as the eavesdroppers charged and hoisted us both onto their shoulders.

"Oh, come on!" Percy complained. "Is there no privacy?"

"The lovebirds need to cool off!" Clarisse said with glee.

"The canoe lake!" Connor Stoll shouted.

With a huge cheer, they carried us down the hill, but they kept us close enough to hold hands. I was laughing, and Percy couldn't help laughing too.

We held hands right up to the moment they dumped us in the water.

Afterward, we had the last laugh. Percy made an air bubble at the bottom of the lake. Our friends kept waiting for us to come up.

And it was pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time.


	85. 85

Camp went late that summer. It lasted two more weeks, right up to the start of a new school year, and I have to admit they were the best two weeks of my life.

There was a lot of other great stuff going on. Grover had taken over the satyr seekers and was sending them out across the world to find unclaimed half-bloods. So far, the gods had kept their promise. New demigods were popping up all over the place—not just in America, but in a lot of other countries as well.

Nico had some undead builders working on the Hades cabin. Even though he was still the only kid in it, it was going to look pretty cool: solid obsidian walls with a skull over the door and torches that burned with green fire twenty-four hours a day. Next to that were the cabins of Iris, Nemesis, Hecate, and several others I didn't recognize. They kept adding new ones to the blueprints every day. It was going so well, Annabeth, Chiron, and I were talking about adding an entirely new wing of cabins just so they could have enough room.

The Hermes cabin was a lot less crowded now, because most of the unclaimed kids had received signs from their godly parents. It happened almost every night, and every night more demigods straggled over the property line with the satyr guides, usually with some nasty monsters pursuing them, but almost all of them made it through.

* * *

That evening was the last night of camp—the bead ceremony. The Hephaestus cabin had designed the bead this year. It showed the Empire State Building, and etched in tiny Greek letters, spiraling around the image, were the names of all the heroes who had died defending Olympus. There were too many names, but I was proud to wear the bead. I put it on my camp necklace.

"Never forget this summer!" Chiron told us. He had healed remarkably well, but he still trotted in front of the fire with a slight limp. "We have discovered bravery and friendship and courage this summer. We have upheld the honor of the camp."

He smiled and everybody cheered.

"And now," Chiron said, "early to bed! Remember, you must vacate your cabins by noon tomorrow unless you've made arrangements to stay the year with us. The cleaning harpies will eat any stragglers, and I'd hate to end the summer on a sour note!"

The next morning, Percy and I stood at the top of Half-Blood Hill. We watched the buses and vans pull away, taking most of the campers back to the real world. Annabeth had already left. She would be staying in New York. A few old-timers would be staying behind, and a few of the newcomers. Percy was heading back to Goode High School for his sophomore year.

"Good-bye," Rachel said to us as she shouldered her bag. She looked pretty nervous, but she was keeping a promise to her father and attending Clarion Academy in New Hampshire. It would be next summer before we got our Oracle back.

"You'll do great." I hugged her.

Rachel bit her lip. "I hope you're right. I'm a little worried. What if somebody asks what's on the next math test and I start spouting a prophecy in the middle of geometry class? The Pythagorean theorem shall be problem two... Gods, that would be embarrassing."

I laughed.

"Well," she said, "you two be good to each other." Rachel wished us well and ran down the hill to catch her ride.

The guard dragon Peleus curled contentedly around the pine tree underneath the Golden Fleece and began to snore, blowing steam with every breath.

"You've been thinking about Rachel's prophecy?" Percy asked me.

I frowned. "How did you know?"

"Because I know you."

I bumped him with my shoulder. "Okay, so I have. Eight shall answer the call. I wonder who they'll be. We're going to have so many new faces next summer."

"Yep," Percy agreed. "And all that stuff about the world falling in storm or fire."

I pursed my lips. "And foes at the Doors of Death. I don't know, Percy, but I don't like it. I thought... well, maybe we'd get some peace for a change."

"Wouldn't be Camp Half-Blood if it was peaceful," Percy said.

"I guess you're right... Or maybe the prophecy won't happen for years."

"Could be a problem for another generation of demigods," Percy agreed. "Then we can kick back and enjoy."

I nodded.

"Race you to the road?" Percy said.

"You are so going to lose." I took off down Half-Blood Hill, Percy sprinting after me.


End file.
